Back To The Present
by phineas81707
Summary: Marty came to the future in 1985. However, what he saw wasn't quite what people eventually got. Now Marty gets the chance to rip a hole into our alternate timeline and see 2015.
1. This Can't Be The Future

Marty opened the garage door, and his jaw dropped. Sitting there, alone in the garage, was the solid black 4x4 he had ogled the day before, not counting his time travel, at least. He approached it carefully.

"How 'bout a ride, mister?" a familiar voice asked. Marty looked around.

"Jennifer! Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" Marty asked, approaching her. He gently put his arms on her back.

"Marty… you're acting like you haven't seen me in a week," Jennifer said.

"I haven't," Marty said simply. Jennifer rolled her eyes, before a loud burst sounded behind the pair. Two more followed, and Marty watched the silver DeLorean knock over the trash cans on its way into the driveway. The driver's door opened, and the Doc came out, clad in odd garb.

"Marty! You've gotta come back with me!" he shouted, running towards the pair.

"Where?" Jennifer asked, her hands jumping to Marty.

"…Back to the future!" Doc said. His eyes widened as if he had remembered something, and he opened the trash can he hadn't knocked over.

"What are you doing?" Marty asked, watching the Doc sift through the trash.

"I need fuel," he said simply, wandering back to the DeLorean with four banana peels and a can of soda. He opened a hatch where the plutonium used to go, and stuffed the trash in.

"Doc, I'm not going back to the future with you. I just got up, Jennifer's here, we're taking the new truck for a spin," Marty said, holding up one hand.

"Bring her along. This concerns her too," the Doc said, finished with his trash-related business.

"Wait a minute, Doc, what happens to us in the future? What, do we become assholes or something?" Marty asked. The Doc noticeably hesitated for a second.

"Oh, no-no-no-no-no, you and Jennifer both turn out _fine_. It's your _kids_ , Marty. Something's gotta be done about your _kids_!" the Doc said. He hurriedly pushed Marty and Jennifer into the DeLorean, before hopping in himself. He reversed out of the driveway.

"…Doc, you'd better back up. We don't have enough road to get up to 88," Marty said, resigned to travelling through time once more. Jennifer was still looking between the two as if they were speaking in another language.

"Roads? The DeLorean is no longer confined to _roads_ ," the Doc said. He pulled a lever by the steering wheel, and the car began to shake like a boat. Marty looked out the window. The DeLorean was flying. It rotated slowly, before zooming through the sky.

* * *

The DeLorean reappeared on a cloudy day. The Doc pulled two quick manoeuvres, as two lightning bolts narrowly missed the DeLorean.

"Forgot about this thunderstorm…" the Doc said, dipping the DeLorean closer to the ground.

"Doc… where are we?" Jennifer asked.

"When are we?" Marty followed.

"Descending towards Hill Valley, California, at 4:29 pm of October 21st 2015," the Doc said.

"2015?" Marty said in shock.

"The future… Marty, do you know what this means?" Jennifer asked.

"We could see ourselves in the future… this might get ugly," Marty said.

"What do you mean, what's wrong with going to the future?" Jennifer asked.

"I'm not sure. But last time I time travelled, I nearly caused myself to fail to exist. I'm not sure I want to touch the time stream after that," Marty said warily.

"Marty is correct, Jennifer. Meddling with time is a dangerous affair. However, you're going to the future, not the past. There is nothing you could do that could affect your existence in 1985. There is, however, a lot you can do to mess with 2015, so don't touch anything that didn't exist in 1985 unless you feel it's safe to do so," the Doc said, watching his flight pattern.

"So… are there flying cars in 2015?" Marty asked.

"Unfortunately, no. They won't be invented for another few centuries, as far as I'm aware. Neither will Mr Fusion. I went further forward in time to steal that stuff, to make time travel a little easier. I don't want to rechannel the lightning strike on the clock tower every time I go through time, and we did only have nine pellets once I got here before," the Doc said.

"What exactly is going on?" Jennifer asked.

"Well… it's a long story, and you could probably make it into a movie. In fact, I think it might have been the plot of Dad's book. But short version, you're in a time machine, and there were quite a few kinks here and there that Doc seems to have fixed," Marty said.

"Hopefully, we won't need anything dramatic to time travel again. Now, if you don't mind, I haven't mastered landing yet, so please be quiet," the Doc said. Marty and Jennifer looked on in awe, as the Doc dived down towards Hill Valley. The Doc flipped the switch that triggered the levitation, and the car slowly descended towards the ground, before crashing rather loudly.

"Is the car wrecked?" Marty asked.

"Shouldn't be… wait about five seconds," the Doc said. Marty looked up, and noticed the rain they had descended down into seemed to have dissipated.

"Right on the tick. Amazing..." the Doc said, smiling. He hopped out of the DeLorean, and inspected the sides.

"Just a few dents… shouldn't be too hard to fix. I really need to work on my landing… unfortunately, I haven't visited a time period with flying car licences," the Doc said, as Marty and Jennifer left the car.

"But…" Marty said, looking back where the DeLorean had come from. If he hadn't been to a time period where flying cars were commonplace…

* * *

Doc was unloading the trunk of the DeLorean. He pulled out a suitcase, and opened it. He looked up at Jennifer, his eyes scrunched up in thought.

"Doc… what's going on?" Marty asked.

"We have a mission to accomplish! Marty, you'll need to change. Your fashion sense is not the same as your son's, and you'll need to pass as him for this to work. Jennifer, you're not disguising, and I think you _might_ be able to get away with wearing that outfit, so just wait here. I need to hurry off," the Doc said, rushing along to one end of the alley. Marty looked at the pile of clothes in the suitcase.

"Jennifer, you might want to look away," Marty said.

"I might not want to, but yeah, I probably should…" Jennifer remarked, looking away. Feeling highly exposed, Marty slipped off his top layer of clothes, and switched to the fashion of 2015. He suspected Jennifer had sneaked in a few glimpses, but he couldn't have done anything about that. The Doc came rushing back.

"Precisely on schedule," he remarked, reaching into the DeLorean's glove compartment, and pulling out a checklist. He checked the first item, and turned to Marty.

"All right, this is what you have to do. Go around the corner to the Café 80s. You know, one of those poorly-done nostalgia places? Anyway, go there an order a Pepsi. Here's a fifty, 2015 currency. Wait for a guy named Griff. He'll ask you 'Are you in or out?' Tell him you are _out_! No matter what he says, whatever happens, say _no, you're not interested_. And then come back here. And try not to take in _too_ much of your surroundings," the Doc said.

"Wait a minute… didn't you say this has something to do with our kids?" Marty asked, mentally keeping track of everything the Doc was asking of him.

"This is what happens if your son says _yes_!" the Doc said, holding out a newspaper. Marty and Jennifer took one side each, and read the article.

 ** _YOUTH JAILED_**

The article itself was relatively basic. Martin McFly Jr (17) was charged with breaking and entering the Hill Valley courthouse, and was sentenced to ten years of jail time. Jennifer's eyes flew to the date.

"But… this isn't today's date…" Jennifer said.

"No, of course not. But the actual offense, breaking and entering, was committed on this date. I travelled further forward than now. After this, your daughter tries to bust him out and gets an even bigger sentence! This one event starts a chain reaction that destroys your family!" the Doc said.

"This is heavy…" Marty said.

"I know… but I have confidence in you, Marty. Remember, around the corner, Café 80s, guy named Griff, _just say no_!" the Doc said. Marty and Jennifer looked between each other, and nodded.

* * *

"The future…" Jennifer said, looking around. Marty followed suit. The clock tower, still frozen on 10:04pm, overlooked a majestic pond. People walked about their ways, wearing clothes that certainly helped Jennifer not look too much out of place. Cars were streaming by, the movie theatres were subdued… things didn't look too much different.

"This is it? Where are the flying cars? Where are the jetpacks?" Jennifer asked.

"We're all asking that, lady," a woman said, walking past with something in her ear, attached to something inside her shirt. Marty did a double take. Most people in the future seemed to have those buds in their ears.

"Wonder what that is, though," Marty said, pointing it out to Jennifer.

"I guess we'll find out. Which way to the Café 80s?" Jennifer asked. Marty looked both ways, and noticed the brightly patterned sign.

"Over there," Marty said. Jennifer looked up, and followed Marty into the café. They ordered their respective drinks (Marty a Pepsi Free, and Jennifer a light coffee) and took a seat in a booth with a clear view of the street. Marty was looking over his shoulder for Griff, while Jennifer gazed over the streets.

"So this is the world where we raise our children…" Jennifer remarked.

"Yeah…" Marty said dismissively.

"Hey, McFly!" an elderly voice called out. Marty's head zipped around, before he eventually found the speaker.

"Are you talking to me?" Marty asked.

"Yeah, I'm talking to you… you're Marty Jr, aren't you? How does it feel being named after a complete butthead?" the old man asked.

"Now who are you?" Jennifer asked, grabbing Marty's hand.

"Oh… excuse me, miss. Didn't see you there. The name's Biff Tannen, and I run my own auto-detailing service. It's a pleasure to meet you," Biff said, extending one hand to Jennifer. Jennifer nervously shook his hand. Marty was on his guard. He was very familiar with Biff Tannen, and not in a good way.

"What did you say about me?" Marty asked.

"I didn't say anything about you, Junior. I meant your father. The Loser with a capital L," Biff said.

"I happen to know George McFly is-" Marty started, but Biff cut him off.

"No, I'm not talking about George McFly, I'm talking about his _kid_! Your old man? Marty McFly Senior? The man who took his life, and flushed it completely down the toilet?" Biff asked. Marty and Jennifer shared a shocked glance.

"I did what?" Marty said softly.

"He did WHAT?" Jennifer asked louder, partly to drown out Marty's error. Any further information was forestalled, however, by the arrival of a tall man resembling the younger version of Biff.

"GRAMPS! I told you this before: _two_ coats of wax, not just _one_!" the young intruder asked, drawing two or three eyes. The rest of the restaurant remained completely oblivious.

"Relax, I put the second coat on not even an hour ago," Biff said, holding up an appeasing hand.

"With your eyes closed?" the young intruder asked.

"You two related?" Jennifer asked, looking between the pair.

"Anybody home? Griff _did_ just call me gramps… guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, McFly!" Biff said.

"Was that an insult?" Jennifer asked, confused.

" _That's_ Griff?" Marty asked, starting to look worried. Jennifer tried to lean under the table and grab his thigh, but the table was too wide.

"GRAMPS! What the hell am I paying you for?" Griff asked, grabbing Biff's collar.

"Hey, kid… say hi to your grandmother for me…" Biff said, before being resigned to being dragged outside. Marty looked around the café: seemingly no-one had noticed the events, or maybe they didn't care enough about it to act.

"Marty…" Jennifer said.

"This looks bad…" Marty agreed. He heard a familiar jingle, and looked up. Two kids were fiddling with a _Wild Gunman_ arcade machine.

"I got it working!" one of the kids said.

"My dad told me stories about these things… how does it work?" the other said.

"Here, let me show you, kid," Marty said, hopping out of his seat. Jennifer turned to watch him.

"What you do, is you put a quarter in here, and the game begins…" Marty said, sliding one of his own quarters in. The game loaded up.

"From there, you select the mode," Marty said, selecting one player. The desert screen popped up, and an outlaw appeared on the screen, walking towards the centre. The outlaw turned to face Marty, and Marty held out his gun. The word 'Fire' printed on the screen, and Marty's finger hit the trigger without a split-second's hesitation. The outlaw was blasted to the ground.

"Like that," Marty said, spinning the controller around, and presenting the handle to the kids.

"You mean there's not even _blood?_ That's like a children's toy!" the kids said, turning and leaving in disgust.

"Wow…" Marty said to himself, turning back to the Wild Gunman machine.

"Pepsi Free!" Marty Jr called out. Marty turned back, shocked. He dropped the gun controller, and dived underneath his booth, under Jennifer's side. Jennifer smiled briefly, and shifted her legs so that Marty Jr couldn't spot him.

"Hey McFly!" Griff said, coming back inside, accompanied by three companions this time. The girl cast an agonising look in Jennifer's direction, before turning back to McFly.

"I thought I told you to stay in here!" Griff said.

"Griff, guys! How's it going?" Marty Jr asked, turning to Griff's gang. Jennifer felt something in the pit of her stomach, seeing her future son consorting with someone as unfriendly as Griff.

"McFly… your shoe's undone!" Griff said, shooting an uppercut at Marty. Jennifer's sorrow turned to anger. She would have gladly dished out twice what Marty Jr got to Griff, but somehow, she felt like that was probably a poor idea. Timestream-issues aside, it was still a four-on-one fight. Four-on-two, if Marty could get away with it.

"So, McFly… have you made your decision about tonight's opportunity?" Griff asked, grabbing onto Marty Jr's collar.

"Yeah, Griff… I asked Marlene about it, and we both agreed that maybe it was a little bit dangerous…" Marty Jr said. The girl in Griff's group stepped in front of Marty Jr, and touched her right index finger to his cheek. Jennifer spotted a spike-like accessory on said finger.

"What's wrong, McFly? Scared?" Spike asked, shoving her spike into Marty Jr's groin.

 _If that were Marty, that would be a huge rip in the timeline…_ Jennifer thought.

"What's going on?" Marty asked, looking around.

"Turn around… our kid's nearly getting beaten to a pulp!" Jennifer whispered, looking around for someone to intervene. A few eyes looked up, but many missed the obvious scenes.

"So, McFly, what's it to be? In? Or out?" Griff asked.

"I'm not sure that I should… I mean… I should really discuss this with my father…" Marty Jr said. Dead silence. Then…

"YOUR FATHER?" all four of Griff's gang shouted.

"Wrong answer, McFly!" Griff said, picking him up, and throwing him behind him. He landed on the seat opposite Jennifer, and vanished underneath the table.

"Wha…" Jennifer asked, affronted. She felt something moving underneath her legs, and looked up. Marty had come out from under the table.

"Now… let's hear the right answer!" Griff said, grabbing Marty's collar. Marty pushed Griff away, and grabbed Jennifer's hand.

"Since when did you become the physical type?" Griff asked.

"Answer's no, Griff. I've got a date tonight," Marty said, drawing Jennifer closer.

"Marty…" Jennifer said with concern.

"…No…" Griff said.

"Yeah, what are you? Deaf? Stupid? Blind? I said NO!" Marty said, turning to leave. Jennifer went with him, grateful to leave Griff behind.

"What's wrong, McFly? _Chicken?_ " Griff asked. Marty froze. One of the other gang members had pulled out a weird, flat device, and touched its screen. A chicken sound effect played. It would've been comical had the situation not been so dire.

"What did you just say?" Marty asked, turning around to face Griff.

"Marty," Jennifer said, pulling on his sleeve.

"Chicken!" Griff said. The goon touched his device, replaying the sound effect.

"Nobody. Calls. Marty. McFly," Marty started, letting go of Jennifer, and rolling up his sleeves. Griff revealed a baseball bat, much longer than practical for the actual sport of baseball. Jennifer understood its intended purpose clearly, and apparently, so did Marty.

"…Chicken," Marty said, just to finish his thought, before turning around, and dodging Griff's first swing. He pushed Jennifer away, and turned back. Griff was standing over him.

"All right, punk," Griff said.

"Hey, look! Something dull!" Marty said. Griff turned to look, and Marty kicked him in the thighs. He was sent staggering back, and Marty got to his feet. He fled the scene, and looked around.

"Marty!" Jennifer said, passing Marty an odd, pink board that would've passed for a skateboard had it had wheels.

"What's this?" Marty asked.

"Doc slipped it to me just now! I didn't have time to learn that," Jennifer said. Marty threw it to the ground, and watched it push away to about an inch up.

"A flying skateboard… you've outdone yourself, Doc," Marty said. He heard one of Griff's goons, and jumped on the hover-board. He shot away, and Jennifer got to hiding from the group.

"Where is he?" one of the gang members asked. Another pointed to Marty zipping around on his hoverboard.

"He's on a skateboard!" the first one said.

"Grab our boards!" Spike said, rushing to Griff's car, and pulling out three regular skateboards. They jumped on, and skated after Marty. After about five seconds, it was obvious to Jennifer that Marty would be running rings around the gang even if he was riding a regular skateboard himself.

"Doc, this hover-board thing wasn't the best idea…" Jennifer said, watching Marty skate. He reached the Café 80's again, only to make a sudden turn in terror. Jennifer turned, and spotted Griff standing right beside her. Jumping, she turned back to Marty, to see him over the pond in front of the courthouse. His momentum vanished in a puff of smoke.

"Marty! Abandon the plan! That board's not going to work on water!" Jennifer cried out. Marty looked around, and started pushing forward with his foot to reach the nearest land. Griff reached into his car, and pulled out a box. He opened the box, and threw down a board. It went a foot into the air, and Jennifer realised what was happening.

 _Griff_ had a prototype hoverboard. Maybe they weren't so futuristic after all.

Regardless of the hoverboard's origin, the fact remained that Griff boarded it, and readied his bat. Jennifer cried out something deliberately indistinct, causing Marty to look up. Griff was now sailing towards him at speeds that could match a car on a highway, straight at Marty. Marty stood his… water, waiting. Just as Griff swung, Marty dived from the hoverboard into the water. Griff missed his shot, and started swerving uncontrollably. He was thrust directly into the courthouse window, smashing through it.

"Butthead," Biff growled, returning to the car. Marty swam through the pond, and jumped up to Jennifer. Without thinking, Jennifer grabbed his jacket, and started waving it around to dry it off.

"Thanks for the hoverboard, Jennifer," Marty said, choosing to ignore the fact that Jennifer had just stripped him in public, no matter how little.

"Told you, that was the Doc," Jennifer said, returning the jacket.

"Thanks, but I'm still soaked," Marty said. Jennifer smiled, and leaned in to kiss Marty.

"Hey, kids, how about a hundred bucks or so, to help save the clock tower?" an old man asked, intruding on their space.

"Sorry… if I had any money, it'd be soaked about now," Marty commented.

"What do I look like, someone who rakes in enough money for one hundred bucks to be throwaway? When I was… back in 1985, you'd be satisfied with a quarter," Jennifer said.

"Aye, that's how it is, though… back in the day. Surprises me you young 'uns know 'bout that, though… how I wish I could go back in time and tell my younger self to save more money…" the old man said, walking off. Marty nodded vaguely.

"…Might be good, to have a safe nest egg…" Jennifer commented.

"Though… now that you mention it… we have a time machine. What if we wrote down a few scores from sporting events, and then go back in time to before they were played?" Marty asked.

"Marty… you're planning to _cheat_?" Jennifer asked.

"Cheat? Jennifer, Doc said something along the same lines… I think. Besides, I'm pretty sure there isn't a rule that you can't time travel to learn the results," Marty said. Jennifer giggled.

"We should probably ask the Doc, first…" Jennifer said, calming down.

"Yeah… I guess we should," Marty remarked.

"Hey, Marty!" the Doc called. Marty looked up, to see Doc waving from the DeLorean. Marty waved back, and the Doc landed.

"Should you be flying that in broad daylight?" Jennifer asked.

"Probably not. I've explained to more than one individual that this is just a test for future flying cars. After excited reactions, they'll just move on with their lives… refuge in audacity, refuge in audacity…" the Doc said, smiling. He turned, and noticed the commotion on the opposite shore.

"What in the name of Sir Isaac H Newton happened here?" the Doc asked, looking across the waters.

"Listen, Doc, my kid showed up, all hell broke loose!" Marty said.

"Great Scott! I knew I should've been more intensive… he must have gotten up on his own when I left… damn it!" the Doc said, whacking the DeLorean. The newspaper he had shown Marty and Jennifer earlier was jostled, drawing Marty's eye. Its cover had changed. Although its title had not changed, the article now detailed Griff Tannen's incarceration, rather than Marty Jr's.

"Doc…" Marty said. The Doc looked at the newspaper.

"…Of course! Thanks to Griff's hoverboard incident, Griff now goes to jail! Now the robbery won't take place, and therefore your son won't participate and get caught. Thus the timestream has been changed, and here is our proof! I knew it was worth it to pick up that hoverboard! This isn't what I planned, but no matter, let's go home!" the Doc said.

"Um, Marty…" Jennifer said.

"Right… Doc, would it be all right if I took back a few sports results?" Marty asked.

"Marty?" the Doc asked.

"What's wrong with placing a few bets?" Marty asked, concerned.

"Marty! I didn't invent the time machine for financial gain. That's why it can't really be mass-produced! The intent here is to gain a clearer perception of humanity. Where we've been, where we're going, our pitfalls, our possibilities, our perils, and our promise. And maybe we'll even answer the universal question: why?" the Doc said.

"I'm all for that! But making a few bucks on the side?" Marty asked.

"A few bucks on the side of what?" a female voice said. Marty and Jennifer turned around, to see two female police officers standing behind them.

"Nothing illegal… just talking about gambling," Marty said.

"Gamble responsibly there. And would you happen to be the one who helped us bring Griff Tannen to justice?" the other policewoman asked.

"Uh… yeah…" Marty said.

"Thank you for that," the second one said.

"So… would you happen to know a Mrs Jennifer McFly?" the first one asked, turning to Jennifer.

"Yes, why do you ask?" Jennifer asked.

"I'm an old friend of her. I've been preparing a birthday present for her for a while, but now I'm done, I've been unable to actually deliver it," the police officer said.

"But… my- I mean, her- birthday isn't for another week Thursday!" Jennifer said.

"…It was? I could've sworn it was September…" the police woman said.

"It couldn't hurt to deliver it early… with Tannen under police custody, I foresee several all-nighters. And plus, she could use the cheering up," the second woman said.

"Reese, it's been thirty years. I'm pretty sure she's used to it by now!" the first woman said.

"Thirty years since what?" Jennifer asked.

"…Oh, you're making a joke. That was in poor taste, but somehow, I don't see Jenny minding. Anyway, thanks for taking this," the first officer said, leaving the three.

"Jennifer… don't tell me you're not actually planning on delivering that present!" the Doc said.

"Why shouldn't I?" Jennifer asked.

"Because you shouldn't see your future self!" the Doc said.

"That's it?" Jennifer asked, shaking her head in annoyance. She turned around, and noticed a taxi. She hopped in, and headed away.

"Doc… why shouldn't Jennifer meet her future self?" Marty asked, watching Jennifer go.

"I foresee two possibilities. One, the shock of seeing her future self could cause her to descend into shock and she'd simply pass out. Two, the encounter could create a time paradox, the results of which could cause a chain reaction that would unravel the space-time continuum and destroy the entire universe. Granted, I may be exaggerating there… it may be limited to our own galaxy," the Doc said.

"What a relief…" Marty said.

"The point remains… we'll need to find Jennifer before she finds herself!" the Doc said. He looked up, and noticed a slew of cars heading in the general direction of Jennifer's taxi.

"Heavy traffic, there's supposed to be another thunderstorm on the way, and it's still broad daylight! We're never going to make it to Jennifer in time!" the Doc said.

"That doesn't mean we can't try," Marty said.

"That doesn't mean we can't try. And remember, Marty, I didn't invent the time machine to win at gambling, I invented the time machine to travel through time!" the Doc said.

"When your girlfriend's threatening to completely destroy the space-time continuum, gambling kinda takes a back seat, Doc," Marty said.

* * *

Jennifer got out of the taxi, paying the driver the full fare plus a healthy tip. She wondered vaguely about the 1985/2015 exchange rates, before looking along the street.

"Be careful there, miss. This is a rough neighbourhood," the taxi driver said, doing nothing for Jennifer's confidence. She strode to the door purposefully, and opened it. She looked around, before turning on the lights. She saw a nice picture, of the sort of garden she had hoped to have, pinned to one wall. She could vaguely see a girl upstairs.

"Now… what do I do to announce that I'm here for Jennifer?" Jennifer asked. Her eyes were drawn to a picture. Marty was smiling nervously, one hand in the air, and the other in a sling. Jennifer herself was in a wheelchair, neither arm raised, and a scar along her left cheek. Beside it was another picture, this one with an older Marty and two kids. Marty Jr was recognisable as Marty's carbon copy, while the other child resembled Marty to a great degree, despite appearing to be female.

"What, I don't pass down my genes?" Jennifer asked, annoyed. She looked at the picture of her and Marty, before pinching it.

"I'm sure, if I got wheelchair-bound at some point, I'd rather forget it…" she said to herself. She turned to the door, only to hear the doorbell ring. Feeling a sense of terror at being in a house uninvited, Jennifer instinctively dived to the closet, as Marty had taught her. She heard someone, likely the person from upstairs, come down to open the door.

"Grandma Lorraine!" the girl cried.

"Sweetheart!" Lorraine said. Jennifer peered through the door, to see Lorraine and George walk in. George was using a cane, and was obviously favouring his back.

"Are your folks home yet? I bought pizza for everyone," Lorraine said, pointing to the pizzas she carried.

"Who's going to eat all that?" the girl asked.

"I will," George suggested. Lorraine looked around at the house.

"So how's your mother holding up? Marty thinking about getting a ramp yet?" Lorraine asked.

"We're all begging him, but he says he can't afford it. To be fair to him, I don't know who installs a ramp inside, and I think it'd be horribly steep," the daughter said.

"Well, you see, Marlene, the easy way to get your father to do anything is to call him chicken. Try that," Lorraine suggested. In the cupboard, Jennifer was distracted from her rage at having both her children named after Marty upon hearing that Marty's chicken problem persisted into the future, without time travel.

"Calling my dad chicken? I've never heard that one before…" Marlene said.

"Did your father ever tell you about the time he crashed into the Rolls Royce?" Lorraine asked.

"Rolls Royce…" Jennifer said, shivering.

"Yes, plenty of times," Marlene said.

"Well, that all started when that Douglas boy called him chicken. And look at where he ended up! He got a broken hand, his wife permanently lost the use of all four limbs… if he had just ignored Douglas that day, that Caspar wouldn't have pressed all those charges, Marty would've been able to continue with his music, and your mother might've been able to follow her dreams instead of being stuck an invalid," Lorraine said.

"That just sounds cruel to Dad…" Marlene said. Jennifer wasn't worried about that. She stepped back from the door of the cupboard, and fell backwards, sitting on something that could be sit on. Marty wasn't a rock star, she wasn't… anything…

* * *

Marty McFly Jr sat down at the couch, watching Marlene help Lorraine carry the pizzas to the cupboard. He pulled out a small controller, like the ones on that Nintendo Entertainment System, but black, thicker and with more buttons. He pushed one of the buttons, and the screen's display changed to that of a title screen. Jennifer tried to take a peek at the name, before hearing the door open again.

"Hey there, Dad's home!" the older voice of Marty McFly sounded from the door. Contrary to Jennifer's expectations upon hearing about both her and Marty, this Marty was quite cheerful. Or at least, more cheerful than Jennifer had expected.

"Hey there, Ace. Playing your Xbox there?" Marty asked.

"Xbox ONE, Dad! Get with the times!" Marty Jr said. Jennifer rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, well, Grandma was nice enough to get us pizza, so it's time to get to the dinner table," Marty said.

"Aw, but Dad," Marty Jr said.

"No buts, Junior. You can play your… whatever it is you're playing now when dinner's done!" Marty said. Jennifer watched Marty Jr put down the controller in disappointment, heading towards the dinner table.

"Don't give me that! You're _this_ close to being grounded, especially after that hoverboard incident," Marty said.

 _You should know that was your fault, Marty! Don't be so hard on him!_ Jennifer thought to herself. She decided, right then and there, that she was going to have a good long talk with Marty to put him on the track to being a good husband and father. She didn't want this future to be hers. She heard an odd sound, and Marty returned to the living room. He pushed a button, and Needles appeared on the screen. Jennifer's thoughts about the conversations she had heard reminded her that Needles' name was Douglas.

"Hey, hey, big M! How's it hanging, McFly?" Needles asked from the screen.

"Needles," Marty said politely.

"So, did you get to see that business proposal I offered you?" Needles asked, gesturing to a small computer-like device on the living room desk. It was open to something with so many colours and numbers that Jennifer was clueless as to what it actually depicted.

"I don't know about this, Needles…" Marty said.

"What are you afraid of, McFly? If this thing works, all your financial problems will disappear! You'll have enough money to fix your arm, bring Jenny to her former glory…" Needles said.

"Don't you call her Jenny, Needles. And besides, if this thing fails, Needles, I'll get fired. It's illegal! What if the Jitz is watching us right now?" Marty asked.

"The Jitz will never find out, McFly! Just enter your number, and leave everything to the Thousand Needles to solve!" Needles said.

"…Nah. I'll get Jennifer back on her feet _without_ your help," Marty said.

"All right, McFly. You want everyone in the division to think you're chicken," Needles said. Marty froze, and Jennifer's hand flew to her heart in shock.

 _Not again, Marty… you've lost so much… please, no, just leave it…_

"Nobody. Calls. Marty. McFly. Chicken," Marty said, turning back to Needles.

"Prove it," Needles said. Marty stared at Needles at great length.

"All right. I'm sending you my number now. I'm in," Marty said, leaning down to the monitor, and typing in a twelve letter/number sequence. Jennifer bowed her head, and watched Needles disappear from the screen. A ringing sound sounded from Marty's pocket, and Marty pulled out a futuristic phone.

"'Yello!" Marty said. Jennifer heard the word 'McFly' shouted from the other end. It must have been loud for Marty, because he held the phone from his face before continuing on.

"Fujitsu-san! Konban-wa!" Marty said. Jennifer couldn't hear the rest of 'Fujitsu-san's side of the conversation, but from the way Marty's face fell, Jennifer had a good idea.

"Terminated? No! It wasn't my fault, sir! It was Needles! Needles was behind the whole thing! I didn't… it was a sting operation! I was setting him up! Please, no, I can't be fired… I'm fired…" Marty said, leaning back into his chair. Jennifer declared that she had seen enough, and left the cupboard. She treaded silently from the room, making sure to stay out of Marty's sight. In his depressed mood, seeing a younger, fitter Jennifer would certainly have consequences Jennifer wasn't eager to explore at the present. She reached the door, and opened it.

"Why, thank you, Marlene," a female voice said from the porch. Jennifer looked down, to see an old-looking lady wheel her wheelchair into the house. Jennifer's legs became paralysed, as she realised who she was looking at.

"…Jennifer…" Jennifer said. Her hands were shaking, brushing up against the gift that she was supposed to deliver to her older self. She reached for it, fumbling her pocket in tension.

"…Wait, you're not Marlene…" older Jennifer said, looking up at younger Jennifer.

"No… Jennifer…" younger Jennifer said, holding out the item she was entrusted to deliver.

"Oh… thank you… um…" older Jennifer said. Luckily, at that moment, the Doc came rushing up the stairs.

"Doc?" older Jennifer asked.

"Doc!" younger Jennifer said.

"Sorry about the disturbance, madam. My granddaughter's…" the Doc started, before grabbing Jennifer and bolting.

"Wait!" older Jennifer called out.

* * *

"Doc! I'm sorry for rushing off like that! I didn't realise how bad we were!" Jennifer said, as the Doc reached the DeLorean.

"No matter about that, Jennifer. Just as long as we haven't caused any time paradoxes, we're good. We've got to get back to 1985, we can't risk that happening again! I'm going to destroy the time machine!" the Doc said.

"Destroy it… wait, Doc? What about all that stuff you said about humanity? Where we're going? Why?" Marty said, looking up from his seat.

"The risk is just too great! And we were behaving responsibly! Just imagine what were to happen if the time machine were to fall into the wrong hands! My only regret is that I'll never visit my favourite historical era… the Old West. But time travelling is just too dangerous. Better that I devote myself to studying the other great mystery of the universe… women," the Doc said. Jennifer rolled her eyes. Marty shivered slightly. Everyone piled into the DeLorean, and the Doc hit the time circuits. Flying off into the moon, the Doc hit 88, and travelled back to 1985.


	2. Highway To Hell Valley

The DeLorean started slowing down from 88. The three time travellers looked around nervously. The Doc had chosen to take them to night-time of Saturday.

"Are we back?" Jennifer asked. The DeLorean suddenly dived down, making way for a jet plane to fly overhead. The Doc wiped some specks of sweat from his brow.

"We're back…" the Doc said. He looked down, and spotted the Lyon Estates. He dived down, and landed beside Marty's house. Marty and Jennifer jumped out from the DeLorean, and turned back to the Doc.

"If you need me, I'll be at the lab, dismantling this thing," the Doc said.

"Got it, Doc," Marty said.

"Now don't you lot go messing with the timeline," the Doc added.

"…Is that what we're going with now?" Jennifer asked. Marty checked the garage: locked.

"I'll go around into my room. I always leave that window unlocked," Marty said.

"Go for it, Marty," Jennifer said. Marty clambered over his fence, and slid up the window. He landed in a bed, and instantly cued a girl's scream. To Jennifer, it sounded vaguely like a banshee.

"You're not cheating on me in there, are you Marty?" Jennifer asked.

"I don't know!" Marty cried out, looking at the girl whose room he had disturbed. The light turned on, and Marty spun around. The imposing figure of a man entered the room, carrying a regular baseball bat.

"Holy… what is going on?" Marty asked.

"You tell me, trash!" the man yelled, swinging at Marty.

"Listen, sir, sorry, I don't want trouble…" Marty said.

"Well, you GOT trouble now!" the man yelled. Marty gulped, and took that as his cue to take the familiar path from his home. He grabbed Jennifer's arm as he went, looking back at the family, who had spilled out onto the yard.

"You run, sucker, and tell that realty company I ain't selling! We ain't going to be terrorised!" the man yelled at Marty.

"Holy…" Jennifer said.

* * *

Marty and Jennifer ran down Jennifer's street. This particular one had chalk outlines on the pavement. Jennifer shivered, looking around.

"Hey there, handsome," a sultry voice said. Marty turned around, and spotted a woman of the night approach him.

"Marty's taken, you hear!" Jennifer insisted.

"Oh really? Well… I saw him first…" the prostitute said.

"That's…" Jennifer said. Only then did Marty recognise the speaker.

"…Linda?" Marty asked.

"How do you know who I am?" Linda asked.

"Linda McFly? I'm your younger brother, Marty!" Marty said.

"Marty? What are you doing back here? What about Jennifer? If Dad catches you in America, she's toast!" Linda cried out.

"If… what?" Marty asked.

"What day is this?" Jennifer asked, confounded.

"October 26th, 1985… remember?" Linda asked.

"Thank god she told us the year," Marty mumbled to Jennifer.

"Thank you, Linda… but where's Lorraine?" Jennifer asked.

"Where she always is… the hotel," Linda said. Marty and Jennifer looked between each other.

"This is…" they said in unison, before running.

"Hotel's a left, not a right!" Linda called to the pair. Marty waved, and turned the pair around.

* * *

Marty and Jennifer found themselves in the town square. Ignoring the crowd of hobos (although Marty did recognise Dave and Red) and bikers, the pair looked up at the clock tower. Or at least… where the clock tower used to be. In its place was a massive tower, with Biff's face and name plastered in neon all over it. Marty and Jennifer looked between each other.

"That better not be the place Mom is…" Marty said. The two walked forward, Marty's arm latched to Jennifer. Half from fear, and half to keep her safe from the creeps swarming the courtyard.

"Why, hello there, good sir and noble madam! Welcome to the Biff Tannen Museum, dedicated to Hill Valley's number one citizen, and America's greatest living folk hero, the one, the only, Biff Tannen!" an elderly man called out to Marty and Jennifer. Marty approached him cautiously.

"Biff?" Marty asked.

"No, kiddo. Biff's my son. The name's Irving. But you can call me Kid. Kid Tannen," the man told the pair. Marty and Jennifer looked between each other.

"So… can you tell us about your son?" Jennifer asked.

"Of course! Well, we've all heard the legend… but who is the man? Inside, you'll learn about how Biff became one of the richest and most powerful men in America! We've also got the history of the Tannen family, including, but not limited to Buford 'Mad Dog' Tannen, the fastest gun in the West, yours truly Kid Tannen, the man who brought alcohol back to Hill Valley-" Kid started.

"Do you mind getting back to Biff?" Marty asked.

"Oh, right! Biff's humble beginnings… a trip to the horse track on his 21st birthday made him a millionaire overnight. A subsequent winning streak brought him such good fortune that he earned the nickname 'The Luckiest Man On Earth!' Biff parlayed that winning streak to become Biffco. In 1979, Biff legalised gambling, and turned this old courthouse into this beautiful casino-hotel! Bless his heart," Kid said.

"Heavy…" Marty sighed.

"And that's not all! In here, you'll also see the broads that shared Biff's passion in his search for true love… and then relive our happiest moment, the marriage between Biff Tannen and his high-school sweetheart Lorraine Baines!" Kid said.

"NO!" Marty and Jennifer cried out, stepping back. As they did so, Marty felt two unfamiliar arms on his. Jennifer turned in shock, staring at the two men holding Marty.

"And who's this skirt?" one of them asked, turning to Jennifer.

"Cliff, what are you doing with these paying customers?" Kid asked.

"Security told me this one was causing a fuss… kid looks kinda like Lorraine's kid, Marty," Cliff said.

"Martin? Then that's…" Kid said, turning to Jennifer. Jennifer realised the danger, and bolted.

"That's who, pa?" the other thug asked.

"…Never you mind, Riff! Just take this one up for Biff to take care of!" Kid said, getting to his feet.

"Jennifer…" Marty said.

"Now listen here, sonny, we can do this the easy way, or we can do this the hard way!" Riff said. Cliff pulled out some kind of bludgeoning tool, and swung over Marty's head.

"Okay, Cliff, we're doing it the easy way…" Riff said, rolling his eyes.

* * *

Marty found himself stirring in an unfamiliar, not very comfortable over-laced bed. He opened his eyes, still somewhat asleep. He turned to one side, and recognised a curly-haired woman.

"Mom? Jen? Who's there?" Marty asked, disoriented.

"Just relax, Marty… you've been out for almost two hours by now…" the coarse voice of Lorraine said.

"I had a… horrible nightmare… terrible…" Marty said.

"Well, you're safe and sound now back on the good ol' 27th floor…" Lorraine said.

"Wait a minute… 27th floor?" Marty asked, sitting bolt upright. He turned to Lorraine, now that the light was on. Her face seemed a lot smaller, with heavy, overdone makeup, reminding Marty of Jennifer's fourteenth birthday. Any humour that could've been derived from that was taken by one part horror at the faint scars crossing her body at several places that Marty might honestly have missed had he been used to this alternate mother, and two parts the massive expansion that had been done on her breasts, fitted with a tight, unflattering dress that did little but expose her cleavage. Marty found his eyes locked on said cleavage.

"Mom… that's not you, is it?" Marty asked.

"…Yes, this is me, Marty…" Lorraine said.

"But you're… you're too… too big…" Marty said.

"Everything will turn out fine, Marty… hungry? I can call room service," Lorraine said, turning to some odd device.

"LORRAINE!" a voice cried out from outside the room.

"Oh my god… your father…" Lorraine said, quivering. Biff Tannen burst into the room, followed by 3-D, Match and Skinhead. Remembering the manure incident, he wasn't sure whether to call this safer or more dangerous than Cliff and Riff.

"You're supposed to be in Switzerland you little son of a bitch!" Biff said.

"Wait a minute… my father?" Marty asked, confused.

"Kicked out of another boarding school? Lorraine, you _do_ realise how much perfectly good dough I blow on all three of your no good kids?" Biff yelled.

"What do you care, Biff? We can afford it! The least you could do with all that money is provide a better life for our children!" Lorraine said.

"Hold on there, Lorraine! Let's get this straight! Marty is your kid, not mine, and all the money in the world couldn't fix that whack-job! He's a butthead, that's all his old man!" Biff yelled. Lorraine fell silent, and Marty crossed his fingers that meant Biff was about to get comeuppance.

"Don't you _dare_ speak that way about George. You're not even half the man he was," Lorraine said. Marty remembered that voice without a hint of fondness. That was her 'ready to tear your head off' angry voice. Biff wasn't cowered in the slightest: he leaned forward, and shoved her to the ground with minimal effort. Marty decided to step in, and charge. Match and Skinhead grabbed him, and Marty struggled. Match and Skinhead had clearly spent time working out, and were both much bigger than Marty, making escape impossible. Biff approached Marty slowly and carefully.

"Little hothead, huh? You want to take a poke at me?" Biff asked, before punching Marty in the gut. Marty gasped, and he was suddenly released. His fall to the ground felt the slightest bit painful.

"Damn you, Biff. That's it. I'm out of here!" Lorraine said, getting to her feet. Marty would've cheered if he could've spoken. Biff watched Lorraine go.

"Go ahead, Lorraine. But think about this: who's going to pay for all your clothes? And your jewellery? Your liquor? Your cosmetic surgery?" Biff asked.

"You're the one who wanted me to get these… these things! I won't keep them anyway; you can have them!" Lorraine shouted. Marty was positive those were her breasts she was mainly referring to.

"Look, Lorraine… walk out that door, and not only will I cut you off, I'll cut off your kids!" Biff said. Lorraine froze.

"You wouldn't!" Lorraine cried out, her tone and momentum changing in an instant.

"Wouldn't I? Dave… an alcoholic who's only source of food comes from my pocket. Linda… a prostitute so high in debt that not even I can help her. And Marty… oh boy, Marty… let's just say you'll be left with more blood on your hands…" Biff said, slowly, cruelly. Marty froze. Did Biff seriously have no idea what to do with the other him? His siblings were in dire straits that Biff could use to slowly torture them, and all he could think of for Marty was straight up killing him?

"…All right, Biff… you win. I'll stay," Lorraine said dejectedly. Biff turned to Marty.

"As for you… in an hour, I'll come back up here. If you're still loitering around…" Biff said, trailing off. Whatever consequence Biff had in mind was unknown to Marty, so his intended effect fell flat. Biff left the room, followed by 3-D, Match and Skinhead. Lorraine came back down the stairs towards Marty.

"He was right… and I was wrong," Lorraine said.

"What the hell… you're defending him? And what does he have over me?" Marty asked, looking between Lorraine and where Biff used to be.

"I don't know… you're the one who always said it's just between you and him," Lorraine said. Marty's heart sunk. Maybe his original guess was a little off about Biff.

"My… My… wait a minute, _why are you even married to him_? What happened to Dad?" Marty asked.

"Dad? Marty… are you feeling all right?" Lorraine asked with concern.

"NO! I'm not feeling all right! I don't understand what the hell is going on around here! No one's giving me a straight answer…" Marty said.

"They must have hit you over the head _hard_ this time…" Lorraine sighed.

"Mom… where's my father? What happened to George McFly?" Marty asked.

"Marty? George… he's in the same place he's been for twelve years. Oak Park Cemetery," Lorraine said. Marty's jaw dropped, as did his heart.

* * *

Marty found himself scanning the graveyard, going from tombstone to tombstone. Ignoring several names he hadn't heard of, he eventually stumbled across a large tombstone, listing three names.

 _In loving memory:_

 _Arthur William McFly: Born March 15_ _th_ _1902, Died March 15_ _th_ _1973_

 _Sylvia Miskin McFly: Born May 15_ _th_ _1903, Died March 15_ _th_ _1973_

 _George Douglas McFly: Born April 1_ _st_ _1938, Died March 15_ _th_ _1973_

 _If you put your mind to it, you can accomplish anything._

"No… No…" Marty said, looking at the tombstone in horror. His father was gone. He turned to one side, and began to cry. His entire life was gone, and he didn't know how it happened. A shadow fell upon his back, and Marty turned around suddenly, knocking down a tombstone.

"Marty…" Jennifer said.

"JENNIFER!" Marty said. He jumped up, and gave her the biggest hug he could muster. No matter what, Jennifer would help him through this mess… her and the Doc. But mostly her.

"When I heard about your father, I came here as fast as I could. Took longer than I had hoped to throw off Kid, though…" Jennifer remarked.

"Do you know what happened? March 15th 1973?" Marty asked.

"Yes, Marty…" Jennifer said. Her hand, the only source of warmth in this nightmare, took Marty's, and led him away.

* * *

In the Doc's lab, Marty was looking down at the newspaper article that the Doc had found regarding George McFly's untimely demise.

 ** _MCFLY FAMILY MURDERED_**

"Doc went to the public library to make sense of this. The place was boarded up, so he broke in and borrowed all the newspapers he could find that were most relevant…" Jennifer said. Marty noticed a paper in her own hand. He didn't ask to see what it contained. His own hell was bad enough: he didn't need hers.

"I don't get it, Doc… it's like we're in hell or something," Marty said, looking up at the Doc. He was furtively looking around the lab. In its state, he would've had better luck finding a needle in a haystack: at least there were tricks to that a scientist would know better than anyone.

"No, this is Hill Valley, though I can't imagine hell being much worse," Jennifer remarked. Einstein started whinging, and the Doc looked up.

"Oh, sorry, Einie… the lab's an awful, awful, awful, awful mess…" the Doc said, grabbing Einstein's bed, and flipping it upright. Einstein curled up, and began to sleep.

"The time continuum has been disrupted creating a new temporal event sequence resulting in an alternative reality…" the Doc said.

"…In English?" Marty asked.

"Somewhere in our past, the timeline skewed away from the 1985 we remember into an alternate 1985. Alternative to you, me, Jennifer and Einstein, but reality for everyone else…" the Doc said. He turned, and grabbed a small object. He turned back to Marty, and held it out.

"The top of Biff's cane…" Marty said.

"He tried to hit me with that…" Jennifer remarked.

"I found it in the time machine… Biff must have gone back in time and made it so that his younger self could achieve success… and we know exactly how he did that," the Doc said.

"Betting on sport events…" Marty said. Jennifer nodded, pointing to another newspaper. This was the paper that detailed Biff's first million-dollar win. Marty took a closer look, noticing something in his pocket. It looked like a sheaf of paper.

"Holy shit…" Marty said.

"You see, while we were in the future, Biff managed to lay his hands on a host of sporting results, and passed them to his future self somewhere in the past. That bet wasn't just lucky; he knew the race results ahead of time! That's how he made his entire fortune!" the Doc said.

"Son of a bitch stole my idea! He must have overheard…" Marty said, before stopping. He turned back to the paper, and then to Jennifer.

"It's my fault… I shouldn't have put that idea into anyone's head…" Marty said.

"That's all in the past," Jennifer said.

"The future," Marty corrected.

"Whatever! This incident demonstrates how time travel can be misused and why we must destroy this time machine… well, we should straighten this out, first," the Doc said.

"Right… we go back to the future, and stop Biff stealing the time machine!" Marty said.

"We can't! If we go back to the future from this point in time, we will arrive in the future of this reality! The reality with a corrupt and powerful Biff, the Biff who's married to your mother… and look what's happened to me!" the Doc said, holding out a paper.

 ** _EMMETT BROWN COMMITTED_**

"Jennifer…" Marty said. Jennifer flourished her paper slightly, and Marty took it at long last.

 ** _LOCAL GIRL MISSING_**

"Our only chance to repair our present is in the past, where the timeline skewed into a tangent. To put the universe as we remember it, and return to our reality, we have to find the date and circumstances of how, where and _when_ young Biff came across future sporting results," the Doc said.

"…I'll ask him," Marty said.

* * *

 _"_ _The heart, Ramon… don't forget the heart," the man with no name said, walking along the dusty street towards a pile of barrels. "Aim for the heart or you'll never stop me."_

 _The gunman, Ramon, growled, and fired three times. The man with no name keeled into the barrels, but once again, he simply resumed his feet. Ramon pumped his gun, but he was out of bullets. He stared at the man with no name, as he lifted up his poncho, revealing a plate that had absorbed all of his bullets._

"Bulletproof vest!" Biff shouted out, amused. His two showgirls laughed with him. All three were in a jacuzzi, watching one of Clint Eastwood's movies.

"Great flick, great flick… the guy is brilliant!" Biff continued, before the TV shut off. The girls looked around, before shrieking. Marty had entered the room.

"Party's over, Biff. Sorry about this, ladies… I'm a married man," Marty said, staring down Biff.

"How did you get past my security?" Biff asked.

"Magic. I'm here about one thing. What would you know about a leaflet of papers with sporting results from 1955 to 2015?" Marty asked. The showgirls looked to Biff, shocked.

"You heard him, girls. Party's over," Biff said slowly, as Marty's words sunk in.

* * *

After Biff had left the jacuzzi and put on a robe, he opened the door to his office. Marty followed him in.

"Start talking. What do you know about that sheaf?" Biff asked.

"First you tell me how you got it. How, where, when," Marty said, standing his ground.

"All right, take a seat…" Biff said. Marty guessed it would be a long, egocentric speech, and elected to comply.

"November 12th, 1955, that was when," Biff said, turning to the large painting of himself behind his desk. He pulled it aside, revealing a safe.

"November 12th 1955, that was the day… of the famous Hill Valley lightning storm," Marty said. He had almost let slip time travel. One Biff time travelling was enough.

"You know your history. Glad to hear that those boarding schools are sinking in. I'll never forget that Saturday. I'd picked my car up from the shop because I'd totalled it in a drag race a few days earlier…" Biff said.

"Didn't you crash into a manure truck?" Marty asked.

"How did you know?" Biff asked, growling.

"…Calvin Klein told me," Marty said, wondering if that would arouse suspicion.

"I always did wonder where he went… anyway, there I was, minding my own business… and then some crazy old codger with a cane shows up, claiming to be my distant relative. I don't see any resemblance…" Biff said. In that time, he had opened the safe, and pulled a box out of it to place on the table.

"He asks me if I'd like to be rich. Like any red-blooded American, I said sure. He lays this sheaf of paper on me… I was idly nursing the idea of taking notes on all sporting events that I lost bets on, leaning against it because I didn't see the point… this is probably what it would've been in 60 years," Biff said, showing Marty the sheaf of papers. Marty looked between it and Biff.

"This sheaf of papers tells the future. The outcome of every good sporting event until 2015. All I have to do is bet on the winner and I'll never lose…" Biff said. Marty nodded, watching Biff return the sheaf.

"I ask what the catch is. He says there's no catch, but I have to keep it a secret. He disappeared after that… I never saw him again," Biff said. Marty turned to one side, and grabbed one of the matchbooks he saw. Biff was locking the safe back up.

"Oh, wait, there was one more thing. He said that one day, one of a crazy, wild-eyed scientist or a honeymooning couple might show up asking about this sheaf of paper… and if that ever happens…" Biff said, drawing a gun. Marty looked at it in shock. He didn't know old Biff had it in him.

"Funny… I never suspected you," Biff said, pulling the gun up to Marty.

"Yeah, well Biff, there's one thing you didn't count on WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?" Marty asked. Biff turned around, and Marty tossed the matchbook's stand at him. Biff turned back in time to dodge, and Marty took the time to make his escape, avoiding the bullets Biff was shooting in Marty's direction.

* * *

Marty, after a quick stop to evade Biff's cronies with ease, found himself on the roof of Pleasure Paradise. He looked down, not seeing the DeLorean anywhere. Cursing slightly, he heard footsteps.

"Go ahead, kid… Jump. Suicide'll be nice and neat," Biff said. Marty turned around, to see Biff, Cliff and Riff on the roof. In between Cliff and Riff was Jennifer Parker.

 _No… that's what it was the whole time!_

"What if I don't?" Marty asked, still staring at Jennifer. Jennifer was looking back, eyes wide in fear, and very little clothing to her name. She was scarred and bruised worse than Lorraine… whether that was due to harsher conditions or less reconstructive surgery was a question Marty didn't want to ponder. The look in Jennifer's eyes was one he didn't want to see in Jennifer ever again. Biff pulled out his gun, and aimed it at Jennifer. Marty shook in horror.

"Marty… please…" Jennifer whimpered.

"What about the police, Biff? They can match the bullet with that gun!" Marty said, looking back down.

"Kid, I own the police… except for one. Danny Parker Jr… I had to kill that one. This gun… my god, this gun… it's killed me two Parkers and three McFlys already!" Biff said.

"Son of a…" Marty said, looking back to Jennifer.

"Marty… let me… please… don't…" Jennifer begged. Marty did a double take, unsure if he had heard Jennifer correctly.

"Poetic justice… I guess I'm killing two families with the same gun!" Biff said. Marty stepped up to the ledge, and jumped from the roof.

"MARTY!" Jennifer cried out. She pulled away from Cliff and Riff, and looked down at the ledge. Biff chuckled, striding towards her.

"Well… without your parents or that Marty brat, there's not much use for you now…" Biff said, reaching the ledge.

"MARTY!" Jennifer cried out again. Biff turned.

"What the hell?" he asked. Marty was standing atop a flying DeLorean. The gull wing door opened, knocking Biff up the chin.

"Nice shot, Jennifer!" Marty said. He clambered in, and the Doc pulled the car out of there.

"Doc, we're going back to 1955!" Marty said.

"What?" Doc asked.

"November 12th 1955," Marty said.

"Unbelievable that old Biff could've chosen that particular date… it's almost like that point contains inherent significance… or it's an amazing coincidence…" the Doc said. He looked back at the readout. It had glitched up, displaying January 1 1885.

"Gotta fix that thing," the Doc said, slamming his hand into it. He activated the time circuits.

"Wait a minute… you're turning on the time circuits now?" Marty asked.

"Yep. Better close your door," the Doc said. Marty jumped, and turned to do that. He looked down, and noticed someone hanging onto the DeLorean.

"Uh, Doc…" Marty said. Jennifer looked over Marty's shoulder, and noticed Jennifer-A clinging onto the DeLorean.

"No…" Jennifer said.

"…Who is it?" the Doc asked.

"The other Jennifer," Marty said. The Doc looked up, and noticed that Marty had pulled in the other Jennifer, and closed the door.

"But… the two of you… this should… ah, heck with it. I'm not making another landing now," the Doc said.

"Doc… this is kind of a big deal…" Jennifer said.

"She can help us out, hopefully. Besides, once we succeed in our mission, this timeline will turn back into the real 1985. She will disappear, and Einie will have no memory of this horrible place… lucky him…" the Doc said.

"You're going to…" Jennifer-A said, looking between Marty, Doc, and Jennifer with concern.

"Jennifer… um… we're going to make your life heaven on earth if we succeed in this mission. You'll have a happy, loving relationship with a Marty McFly that has a much better father, and you'll get to keep your parents, and no one will ever hurt you ever again!" Jennifer said.

"It sounds… great…" Jennifer-A said.

"And if we don't succeed?" Marty asked.

"We will succeed," Doc said.


	3. Nightmare Under The Sheaf

With three triumphant sounds, the DeLorean burst through time, and appeared above Lyon Estates of 1955. The Doc set down the DeLorean with a clunk, and Marty and the two Jennifers left the car in a pile. Jennifer-A was the first to pick herself up.

"1955... wait, so this is _before_ Biff got all his money?" Jennifer-A asked.

"Yes," Jennifer said, resuming her feet, and pulling Marty up as well.

"This is heavy… I feel like I was here yesterday," Marty remarked.

"You were here yesterday, Marty. Amazing, isn't it?" the Doc told him. "Anyway, sunrise isn't for another fourty-four minutes or so. You three go into town, track down Young Biff, and tail him. Sometime today, Old Biff will show up for young Biff to get that sheaf of sporting results. Above all, you must not interfere in that event. If Old Biff does not believe he has succeeded, we won't have the DeLorean for future use, and that's a major paradox."

"Got it…" Jennifer said.

"Once Old Biff is gone, grab that sheaf of paper any way that you can. All of our futures depend on you two!" the Doc said.

"And me?" Jennifer-A asked. The Doc looked between the Jennifers.

"…Marty, here are some binoculars for you. For both of you, I've got 2015 headsets, so we can keep in contact," the Doc said, passing Marty and Jennifer their equipment.

"Anyway, I'll stay here and try to repair the time circuits. That way, we won't lose the time machine, and I won't risk running into my other self. That's a big thing, Marty… the lightning bolt at the clock tower isn't until tonight, so make sure that none of you are spotted by the other Marty. The other me, you might have luck with. But Marty will certainly recognise Jennifer, and that will cause some kind of paradox or some danger," the Doc said. He pulled out a briefcase, and looked around it. He pulled a few notes out, and handed them out to all three of the time-travellers.

"Get some 50's clothes. Something inconspicuous," the Doc said. Marty nodded, and led the Jennifers along the road to Hill Valley.

* * *

Marty scooted up to 1809 Mason Street, wearing a not-so-inconspicuous leather jacket, hat and shades. Admittedly, this wasn't the brightest thing he had ever done, but his eyes lit up upon seeing the ensemble in the clothes shop, and he promptly decided that he would take it 'to make it obvious which Marty was which'. Jennifer didn't buy it, but Jennifer-A did. The two Jennifers were wearing functionally identical sun-dresses, with Jennifer wearing a blue ensemble and Jennifer-A a red.

"Doc, this is Marty. Phase one of the operation is complete, over," Marty said over his earpiece.

*Thank goodness. Have you found the Tannen residence?* the Doc asked from the other end.

"I'm at the address… it's the only Tannen in the book, but this can't be Biff's house… it looks more like some old lady's place…" Marty said.

"BIFF! Where are you going, Biff?" an old lady shouted, as Biff Tannen left the ramshackle home. Jennifer-A shivered. Jennifer put an arm around her shoulders. As she did so, Marty idly noted that Jennifer's neckline was also lower than Jennifer-A's.

"I'm going to get my car!" Biff shouted back.

"When are you coming back? My feet hurt!" the old lady shouted back. Biff rolled his eyes, and continued walking. Marty slid along, keeping one eye on him. He had grabbed a ball, with a bunch of little kids, barely older than eight or ten, yelling at him for doing so. Eventually, Biff stopped walking, showing the ball to the kids. Before the eldest could make a grab for it, Biff turned and threw it on to the balcony of the nearest house. He turned away, laughing. Jennifer growled at Biff.

"Doc, it is Biff's house, I'm on him," Jennifer said. She and Jennifer-A began following him. Marty, struck by a sudden impulse, decided instead to climb on to the house's balcony and retrieve the little kid's ball.

* * *

The two Jennifers followed Biff as he walked, making sure to remain at a safe distance and behind something at all times possible. Noting Biff taunt another little kid, the two were more than incensed by the time Biff came up to the mechanic Terry.

"Looking good there, Terry," Biff remarked, looking down at his '46 Ford.

"She's all fixed up, like you wanted… but I couldn't get it started? You have a kill switch installed on that?" Terry asked.

"No, you just gotta have the right touch. No one can start this car but me," Biff said, leaning into the car.

"All right… the bill comes down to $302.57," Terry told him.

"300 BUCKS? $300 for a _couple of dents_? That's _bullshit_ , Terry," Biff yelled, coming out of the car to yell at Terry.

"No, Biff, it was _horseshit_. I had to pay Old Man Jones $80 to haul it away," Terry said.

"Old Man Jones? He probably resold it, too! I oughta get a piece of that pie!" Biff yelled.

"Want to get something for it? Go inside, you can call Old Man Jones, and if you want a refund…" Terry said, somewhat reasonably.

"$300! If I catch the guy who caused this, I'll break his neck!" Biff yelled. The two entered the store, and Jennifer took the time to get into the car's back seat, underneath a convenient tarp. Jennifer-A looked around for Marty.

"4 cans of Valvoline," Terry finished, cuing Jennifer-A to make herself scarce.

"4 cans for a $300 job?" Biff asked.

"I can't even have lunch…" Terry said. Their argument continued, as Biff piled the cans onto Jennifer's stomach, causing a cry to come out of her.

"Last time I ever do you a favour, Biff! Last time!" Terry yelled, his patience worn off. Biff went to open his car, before hearing two girls leaving a store for fancy dresses. Biff smirked, and walked up to them. Jennifer-A jumped, and followed him.

"Lookie what we have here…" Biff started, approaching Lorraine Baines and Bonnie 'Babs' Peters. Jennifer-A looked closely at the two, realising just who they were.

"Nice dress, Lorraine, but you'd look better wearing nothing at all," Biff said, lifting up Lorraine's dress. Lorraine elbowed him, and began walking away from Biff determinedly.

"Um… excuse me, Miss Lorraine, Miss Bonnie… can I talk to you, please?" Jennifer-A asked.

"Butt out, girl!" Biff commanded.

"Biff, leave us alone, and go take a long walk off a short pier," Lorraine said.

"Listen, Lorraine… that dance at school tonight? Right now, my car's fixed, so I figured I'd cut you a break and give you the honour of going with the best-looking guy in school," Biff said.

"I'm busy, Biff," Lorraine said.

"Doing what?" Biff asked.

"Washing my hair," Lorraine said.

"That's as funny as a screen door on a battleship!" Biff said.

"Screen door on a submarine, dork," Jennifer-A chastised.

"Do I know you?" Babs asked, looking at Jennifer-A.

"Look, Biff, someone asked me to the dance!" Lorraine said.

"Who, George McFly?" Biff asked dismissively.

"I'm going with Calvin Klein, OK?" Lorraine asked, getting in Biff's face mockingly.

"Calvin Klein? That's not OK! You're going with me, understand?" Biff asked.

"Buford Howard Tannen! That is sexual harassment!" Babs shouted.

"Oh, yeah, what are you going to do? Going to Officer Parker because your friends are being scared?" Biff asked mockingly.

"Get your cooties off of me!" Lorraine yelled.

"When are you going to get it through that thick skull of yours, Lorraine, you're my girl!" Biff said imposingly.

"Biff Tannen, I wouldn't be your girl even if you had a million dollars!" Lorraine said. Jennifer-A shot forth, and kicked Biff in the shins. Lorraine took the opportunity to swing over Biff's head with her dress, and the three girls ran off.

"Oh, yes you will, Lorraine! You and me! It's meant to be! I'm going to marry you someday! Someday you'll be my wife!" Biff yelled at the retreating backs of Lorraine, Babs and Jennifer-A. He turned back to his car, not realising that there were already three occupants.

"You always did have a way with the ladies, Biff…" Old Biff said. Young Biff turned to him.

"…Get the hell outta my car, old man!" Biff said, anguished at everything that had happened, completely overlooking the nonsense arrangement of the tarp and cans in the back that betrayed Marty and Jennifer's presence.

"Do you want to marry that girl, Biff? I can make it happen," Old Biff said.

"Oh yeah? Who are you, old man Cupid? Unless you've got a bow folded in the wrinkly folds of your neck you can't help me!" Young Biff said.

"Just get in the car, butthead," Old Biff said, turning to start it.

"Who are you calling butthead, butthead?" Young Biff asked. He heard the engine of his car start, and his mouth opened in shock.

"How do you know how to do that. Nobody can start this car but me!" Young Biff said.

"Into the car, Tannen. Today's your lucky day," Old Biff said.

* * *

Old Biff drove like a crazy person to Biff's house, upsetting Jennifer's poor stomach and Marty's various cuts and scrapes. It also may have upset Young Biff, who was constantly yelling about the fact that his car had cost $300 bucks to fix up the dents. When Old Biff finally reached Biff's garage, to everyone's relief, he turned to Young Biff.

"Shut up about the car," Old Biff said in annoyance.

"How do you know where I live?" Young Biff asked, avoiding Old Biff's request.

"We're related, Biff. That being the case, I've got a little present for you. This will make you rich… you want to be rich, right?" Old Biff asked.

"That's rich… ha. You're going to make me rich?" Young Biff asked. Old Biff pulled out that most coveted of documents: 60 years worth of Biff's scribbling about sports results.

"Do you see this? This sheaf of papers tells the future. It tells the result of every game played for all the _good_ sports until the end of the century. Football, baseball, horse races, boxing… the information in this sheaf is worth billions and billions… and I'm giving it to you," Old Biff said. Young Biff looked at the sheaf in disdain.

"That's very nice, thank you very much. Now why don't you make like a tree and get out of here?" Young Biff asked, earning him a slap on the head from Old Biff.

"IT'S _LEAF_ , you idiot. Make like a tree, and _leaf_. You sound like a damn fool when you say it wrong!" Old Biff chastised.

"All right, then, LEAVE! And take that sheaf with you!" Young Biff said, throwing the sheaf of paper towards Old Biff. The cover was pulled out of the staple, and Old Biff grabbed a paperclip to pin it back on.

"Don't you get it? You could make a fortune with this! Allow me to demonstrate," Old Biff said. He opened to the first page, and turned up the radio to the final moments of a college football match.

*UCLA trail 17 to 16! It's 4th and 11 with only 18 seconds left of this game, I'd say it's all over for UCLA!* the announcer said.

"I bet you a million bucks UCLA wins 19-17," Old Biff said.

"What are you, deaf? He just said it was over! You lost!" Young Biff yelled.

*Here comes Decker with the kick, it's up, it looks good, folks, it looks very good… field goal! UCLA wins 19-17!* the announcer said. Young Biff turned to Old Biff.

"How did you know what the score was going to be?" Young Biff asked.

"Told you, it's all written down. Bet on the winner, and you'll never lose," Old Biff said, returning the sheaf to Young Biff.

"…I'll take a look at it…" Young Biff said, tossing it in the back seat of his car.

"Damned fool! Never, never leave this book lying around! Don't you have a safe… oh, right… GET A SAFE! Keep it locked up, and until then, keep it on you!" Old Biff yelled, shoving it into Young Biff's back pocket as the pair left the garage.

"What the?" Young Biff asked.

"Don't go telling nobody about nothing, either. Oh, and one more thing. One day, some sickly-sweet honeymooning couple or a crazy, wild-eyed old man who claims to be a scientist is going to show up asking about that book…" Old Biff said. The conversation ended there for Marty and Jennifer, who were now locked in Biff's garage.

"Holy…" Marty said, feeling his back wounds. He activated his transmitter.

"Doc! Biff's gone, he's got the book, old man's out, too. Me and Jennifer are locked in Biff's garage, and the other Jennifer's off with my mom and her friend. You've got to fly the DeLorean over and get me the hell out of here," Marty said.

"I can't take the DeLorean out in daylight… I'll come up with something!" the Doc said, cutting the link. Marty swore.

"Hey Marty…" Jennifer said. Marty looked up, and saw Jennifer's smile.

"No way…" Marty said, realising what Jennifer had in mind.

* * *

Biff had no need for his car until the evening, for the Enchantment Under The Sea Dance.

"Biff! Where are you going now?" Gertrude Tannen yelled, alerting Marty and Jennifer to Biff's imminent departure. The two hurriedly jumped into the back of Biff's car.

"I told you, Grandma, I'm going to the dance!" Biff yelled. Marty shook in place.

"When are you coming home?" Gertrude asked.

"I'll get home when I get home!" Biff yelled, entering the garage. Overlooking the signs that Marty and Jennifer had been there, he put the sheaf of paper on his dashboard, jumped into his car, and tore away. Marty activated his transceiver.

"Doc! Biff's left the garage, we're on our way to the Enchantment Under The Sea Dance," Marty said, soft enough for Biff to miss.

*Marty! We're going to have to abort, it's getting much too dangerous,* the Doc responded.

"The sheaf of paper is on the dashboard, I'll grab it when we get to the school," Marty said.

*Marty, be careful! You must not run into your other self, and the same goes for the Jennifers,* the Doc said.

"Right… This could get heavy…" Marty said. Marty heard someone else speaking, and the Doc cut the transmission. Marty looked up, and noticed that Biff was coming to a stop. He left the car, and headed towards the school. Marty made a break for the sheaf, but missed by a hair. Biff had turned around quickly to grab the sheaf for himself. Marty and Jennifer looked up, and gave chase. They entered the gym shortly after Biff did.

"Hey, guys!" Jennifer-A said, approaching them. She had changed attire completely, wearing an intricate red dress that made her look more at home on the dance floor, and make-up that almost, though not quite, masked her scars.

"And just where have _you_ been?" Jennifer asked.

"Over with Lorraine, Babs and Betty. Lorraine's gone with Calvin Klein, and Babs is with Danny Parker Jr," Jennifer-A said. Jennifer turned to see Babs dancing with Danny Parker Jr, and Betty bobbing her head along. Lorraine and 'Calvin' would still be outside: Marty noticed George hanging around the place. Jennifer turned away from her parents, and noticed Biff by the punch bowl.

"Spiking the punch… couldn't have come up with something more clever?" Jennifer growled. Marty looked up.

"It probably was pretty clever thirty years ago… besides, when was Biff one to think?" Marty asked.

"Nightmare 1985?" Jennifer prompted.

"…This incarnation of Biff was always a, to use an ironic turn of phrase, butthead. It wasn't until he got older that he got a brain. At any rate…" Marty said. He started sifting through the crowd, trying to reach Biff, who was now walking away. The two Jennifers slowly edged after him.

* * *

Biff was sitting on a railing of a stairway, perusing a sheaf of papers. Another was in his pocket, and Marty gulped. He wasn't sure what had happened, but he was sure it wouldn't be anything good. Marty jumped to the lower ledge, and edged up to Biff. He raised his arm to reach the sheaf of paper in Biff's back pocket, eager to finally put an end to Biff's reign of terror.

"Well, well, well… if it isn't Mr Tannen. How nice to see you here," Principal Strickland said, approaching Biff. The two Jennifers, who had just reached the scene, hurriedly made themselves appear to be tired dancers who had left their boyfriends for a quick breather.

"Mr Strickland… nice to see you, sir," Biff said nervously, hiding the sheaf of paper he was reading behind his back. Both sheafs were now behind him, but out of Marty's reach… which was the correct one?

"Do I smell liquor, Tannen?" Strickland asked.

"How would I know? I don't know what liquor smells like because I'm too young to drink it," Biff said.

"I see…" Strickland said. He lunged forward, and grabbed one of the sheafs of paper. Marty could see the all-too familiar cover of the sports result sheaf: Principal Strickland had the right one.

"What have we here?" Strickland asked, opening it. He whistled softly.

"Sports statistics… interesting subject. Homework, Tannen?" Strickland asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"It ain't homework, because I ain't at home," Biff said, chuckling at his joke. Strickland brought the sheaf of papers down on Biff's head.

"You've got a real attitude problem, Tannen. You just watch it, or one day, I'll have you right where I want you, in detention! SLACKER!" Strickland said, before turning and walking off. Marty activated the transceiver.

"Marty to Jennifer," Marty said.

*What is it, Marty?" Jennifer asked.

"Biff had two sheafs. Strickland's got the one with the sports cover on it. I'm going for it, you keep one eye on Biff," Marty said.

*Ten-four,* Jennifer said, cutting the link. She saw Biff approach her.

"Hey, ladies? Need a real man to show you a good time?" Biff asked. Jennifer-A slapped Biff right across the face.

"No thank you," Jennifer said coolly, watching Biff go. Taking a deep breath, Jennifer resigned herself to following him.

* * *

Marty slipped into Strickland's office, watching the man pour himself a bottle of alcohol. Strickland sat facing away from Marty, allowing him the chance to steal the sheaf from his desk. Slowly, surely, moving his arm forward…

*clatter*

He didn't leave the door correctly. Marty dived under the desk, watching Strickland get to his feet and approach the door. Strickland looked both outside and inside his office in vain for an intruder. Eventually deciding it wasn't worth his time, he resumed his seat. He took another sip of his drink, and Marty pulled his hand up to the desk, reaching for the sheaf. Strickland went to the window, looking out over the parking lot. Marty touched the sheaf…

*slam*

Strickland backed up into his desk, Marty's hand cushioning it. Marty's hand was in horrible pain, and it was only thanks to the fact that Marty had remembered his hat from his disguise that he could avoid making a sound: he had something to bite on. After what seemed like an eternity, Strickland moved his chair, allowing Marty to pull his hand out of the way. Strickland scooped up the sheaf of paper, and moved to the door. Marty watched… as Strickland tossed out the sheaf!

"Yes!" Marty said, as soon as Strickland left the office. Marty jumped out from under the desk, and seized the sheaf of paper. He flipped past the first page, and noticed something odd. Far from displaying sporting statistics, this page showed a quite… flattering drawing of Lorraine. Confused, Marty flicked through more of the sheaf. Page upon page of Lorraine, with a few other girls thrown in here and there, but mostly Lorraine, placed in all sorts of horrible tortures and nightmarish positions. Marty hoped with all his heart that Biff had imagined the look of pleasure on Lorraine's face.

"Oh my… Oh my…" Marty said, looking at the sheaf of paper like it was an active bomb. He was grateful that the sheaf was no longer in Biff's hands, but still… and that still left the other sheaf!

*Marty, did you get the sheaf?* Jennifer asked.

"No… it was just the cover. There's all this… about Lorraine… she's… I can't…" Marty said into the transceiver.

*…Could you hang onto that one?* Jennifer asked. Marty would have shot her a look were they not separated by distance.

"Jennifer, now is not the time for this? Where's Biff? We _need_ to find the correct sheaf!" Marty said.

*Biff's with George and Lorraine out here. This is horrible… poor George…* Jennifer said. Marty turned on the spot, watching Biff twisting George's arm. The scene looked vaguely familiar…

"OF COURSE! Jennifer, I'll be there in a flash, we've got one chance, my old man's about to deck Biff!" Marty said, dumping Biff's fake sheaf in the bin as he ran to the parking lot as fast as his legs could carry him.

* * *

Marty ran right beside Jennifer, just as George finally struck Biff in the face. Biff spun around on the spot, before falling to the ground. A small crowd began to form, as George turned to Lorraine.

"Are you OK?" George asked nervously, holding out his hand. Lorraine took it, and the pair got to their feet, smiling at each other. They turned, and walked calmly away from the scene.

"That's the hard part done. Now for the nastiest thing I'm ever going to do…" Marty said. He strode purposefully to the crowd circling Biff.

"OK, everybody, let's back up now, everybody back up, give him a little bit of room, a little air… It's OK, I know CPR," Marty said, kneeling down beside Biff.

"What's CPR?" one of the kids asked, as Marty spotted the sheaf of paper.

"YOU!" Biff said, already awake. Marty realised it was now or never. He punched Biff in the face, smashing his head into the ground. He pulled the sheaf from Biff's pocket.

"He's fine," Marty lied, running away from the scene. The Jennifers followed him, both in shock at what Marty had done.

"Hey, wait a minute… did you just take his wallet? He just took that guy's wallet!" one of the kids said, yelling after Marty.

* * *

"Success, Doc!" Jennifer called into her transceiver, as the three made their escape.

*Thank goodness! As soon as I reload the fusion generator, I'll meet you on the roof of the high school gym,* Doc said.

"Ten-four," Marty said, looking back to Jennifer-A. She was smiling like crazy, and Marty suddenly felt a pang in his stomach. He turned back around, to see 3-D, Match and Skinhead in front of him.

"Hey, it's him! He's in disguise!" 3-D said. Marty jumped.

"Guys, what's that?" Marty asked. The three gang members all turned, and each one was ploughed by one of the three time travellers. They ran away, Jennifer-A going into the gym, Marty going around the gym, and Jennifer going up to the roof, stopping only to pass Jennifer-A her headset. The gang noticed only Jennifer-A's dress, and decided to follow her.

Jennifer-A looked around the gym. Marty, not the Marty Jennifer-A knew, was on stage, playing the guitar alongside a band. George and Lorraine, as well as Danny and Bonnie, were dancing together in the soft tune. The gang entered the room, and Jennifer-A instinctively hid.

"Where'd he go? He just came in here!" Skinhead said.

"Look, he's on stage! How did that happen?" 3-D said.

"I dunno, but when he gets down, we're going to nail him!" Skinhead said.

"How the hell'd he change his clothes so fast?" Match asked. Jennifer's eyes widened, and she activated the transceiver.

"Mr Doc! Biff's guys chased me into the gym and now they're gonna jump… Marty!" Jennifer-A said.

*Then tell him to get out of there!* Doc said.

"No, Doc, not my Marty, the other Marty, the one up on stage playing this weird… though kind of cool… song…" Jennifer-A said. As Marty began his rendition of _Johnny B. Goode_ , Jennifer-A felt some sort of elation in her stomach utterly foreign to her. She didn't understand it… what meaning did these notes have?

*Great Scott!* Doc said, shaking Jennifer-A from her trance. *The other Marty will miss the lightning bolt at the clock tower, he won't get to the future, we'll have a major paradox!*

"A paradox? Is that bad?" Jennifer-A asked.

*Very bad! The universe itself could be destroyed! Jennifer, you must stop those guys at all costs, but without being seen by Marty!* the Doc instructed her.

"…I'll try…" Jennifer-A said, looking up at Marty. The elation she got from his tune was enough to motivate her to stop the paradox.

* * *

Biff woke up, the crowd still around him. The crowd stepped back, as Biff looked around, groaning like a bull.

"Where is he?" Biff asked.

"Where is who?" one kid asked.

"Calvin Klein," Biff said.

"Who?" the kid asked.

"The guy in the hat!" Biff said, annoyed.

"He went that way," the kid said, pointing to the gym. Biff charged in that direction.

"I think he took your wallet!" the kid yelled. He turned back to the crowd, and added, "I think he took his wallet."

* * *

Jennifer-A reached the stage, and spotted Marty. Slightly beyond him was Biff's gang, three of the men responsible for making her life a living hell. They had weapons, and were ready to beat up the other Marty. Jennifer rolled up the sleeves of her dress.

"You want dirty, you get dirty," Jennifer-A said quietly, spotting a ladder. She clambered up it, _Johnny B. Goode_ transitioning to different styles of rock music. The rest of the band were looking at Marty in confusion: the song wouldn't continue for long. She crossed the beams, making her way above the gang. She looked across, and happened to notice a handy supply of sandbags dangling above the gang. Smirking, she leaned over, and grabbed the knot holding them in place. She tugged, and loosened it. Jennifer-A dropped to the ground beside the gang.

"Hey, it's one of that guy's girlfriends!" Match cried out. Jennifer-A let go of the rope, dropping the sandbags onto the gang's heads. Smirking with glee at the sight of three awful human beings out like lights, she strode purposefully from the gym.

"Marty is safe," Jennifer-A said into the transceiver.

* * *

Jennifer-A left the gym, and bumped into Marty. Marty smiled, looking at her. Jennifer-A smiled back, reaching for Marty's hand.

"Butthead," Biff said. Jennifer-A jumped, and hid behind Marty. Marty glared at Biff.

"You think that disguise will get by me? Let's have it out. You and me, right now. Winner takes that cutie behind you," Biff said, nodding to Jennifer-A. Jennifer-A tried to pluck up the confidence to face Biff, but her efforts seemed futile, her defeat of the gang seemingly meaningless.

"No thanks," Marty said, grabbing Jennifer-A's hand and taking her away.

"What's the matter? Where are you going? Are you chicken?" Biff asked. Marty froze, and Jennifer-A looked at him. Her eyes were wide, pleading, but Marty wasn't going to let that one slide.

"Nobody. Calls. M-" Marty started, turning back to Biff, before he was knocked out… ironically, by the other Marty rushing from the school. Biff looked down at Marty, the one knocked to the ground, and spotted the sheaf of paper.

"What the hell? You stole my stuff?" Biff asked, looking at the sheaf. He grabbed it, and kicked Marty in the stomach.

"And this one's for my car!" Biff added, kicking him again. He grabbed Jennifer-A's arm, and dragged her towards the car. By the time Marty had the strength to stand on his own two feet, Biff had driven away, Jennifer-A in the passenger seat, and the sheaf of paper in his hands.

* * *

Marty clambered onto the high-school roof, looking at Doc and Jennifer clear away a line of flags from the DeLorean's tires. Jennifer looked up at the ragged Marty.

"What happened… where's the other Jennifer?" Jennifer asked.

"I blew it… Biff nailed me, he took the sheaf and drove away in his car. My fault… should've got out of there sooner!" Marty said.

"No time for that now… which way did he go?" the Doc asked.

"East, towards the River Road Tunnel," Marty said. The Doc got in the DeLorean, and he waved his hand frantically. Marty and Jennifer hopped in, and the DeLorean took to the sky.

* * *

Flying above Biff's car, Marty and Jennifer both looked down towards Biff. The sheaf was resting on the dashboard, and Jennifer-A's struggles had mostly abated… whether that was due to fear or being subdued by Biff, Marty didn't want to ponder.

"There he is…" Marty said.

"Let's land on him, cripple the car," Jennifer said.

"That'll get the other Jennifer, though!" Marty cried out.

"Besides, he's in a '46 Ford and we're in a DeLorean. He'd rip through us like we were tin foil," the Doc said.

"I'd like to hear your plan, then," Jennifer said.

"Right up," the Doc said, diving down. He handed Marty the hoverboard, and the plan was instantly explained.

"No! It's too dangerous!" Jennifer exclaimed.

"If you've got a better one, now's the time!" Marty said. Jennifer looked at the sheaf of paper, lying there… there wouldn't be much time until that book was out of their reach, and the world would descend into utter catastrophe…

"Do it. And come back safely," Jennifer said. Marty slipped the hoverboard's strap onto his foot, and put it to the ground. He easily kept pace with the DeLorean.

"Thank God you got an actual hoverboard…" Marty said. He edged along the DeLorean until he reached Biff's rear bumper, and grabbed hold. The DeLorean flew away, and Marty edged along the car. The radio started reciting sports results, and Biff took this chance to check them in the sheaf. All would have been correct. Biff put the sheaf of paper on Jennifer-A's lap, and Marty opened the door. He reached for the sheaf.

"Marty…" Jennifer-A said in joy. Biff turned, and spotted Marty. He grabbed the sheaf from Jennifer-A's lap, and started furiously steering. Marty hung onto the door, as Biff noticed the tunnel ahead. Marty jumped, as Biff rammed the side of his car into the tunnel's wall, sending sparks flying.

"That'll teach him…" Biff said.

"Marty's smarter than that… he'll get you, Biff," Jennifer-A said.

"Babe, he's probably dead. Now stop giving me that, or you're going after him!" Biff said. He turned to his rearview mirror, and spotted Marty. He heard Marty's approach on Biff's side, and elbowed him in the face. Marty looked at the sheaf of paper… if only Marty had a little more height…

Wait a minute… Marty had all the height he wanted: he had a HOVER-board!

Marty grabbed the car, and shifted the hoverboard to the wall. Performing an elaborate manoeuvre over the car, he grabbed the sheaf and was out of Biff's way. Now for getting Jennifer-A out of the car…

Biff had reached his end of the tunnel, and turned around. Marty was now facing an incoming car. Shoving the sheaf of paper into his jacket pocket, Marty started pushing the hoverboard forward as fast as he could, trying as hard as he could to get away from Biff. Biff suddenly put his foot to the gas, tearing after Marty. Marty was almost a goner… until he noticed the tunnel's entrance in front of him. A chain of flags came down, and Marty took hold. He was lifted into the air, and Jennifer-A grabbed on after him. Biff watched the two go, with a few weird shapes further up, before his eyes returned to the road… and the truck ahead.

"SHIT!" Biff cried out, trying to turn away. The effort was futile, and he crashed into Old Jone's Manure Hauling Truck again, sending manure into his car.

"Manure! I hate manure!" Biff cried out.

* * *

The Doc flew the DeLorean back to Lyon Estates, and dropped Marty and Jennifer-A onto the road. Marty looked up at the DeLorean, which was struggling to stay aloft in the Thunderstorm of Hill Valley.

"Doc, are you all right?" Marty asked.

*It's all good up here, but this is very miserable flying weather… but I can't land directly down. I'm going to have to go around and land more comfortably… this can't end well…* the Doc said.

*You've got the sheaf, right?* Jennifer asked. Marty pulled the sheaf from his pocket.

"Right here!" Marty cried out.

*Burn it!* the Doc said. Marty turned to the Lyon Estate billboard, and spotted a small, metal bucket. He grabbed it, and noticed it would be perfect for lighting a controlled fire. He grabbed the sheaf, and pushed it into the bucket. He checked his pockets, and found the matches he had taken from Pleasure Paradise.

"Marty… wait," Jennifer-A said. Marty looked up at her.

"I'm going to miss you, you know…" Marty remarked. Jennifer-A nodded, and leaned in. She kissed Marty, feeling his warmth one final time. She broke away, and looked down at the bucket. Marty struck a match, and dropped it into the bucket. Before the flame could go out, it took hold, burning faster and faster. The information found in the sheaf was quickly becoming unusable. The matchbook's label changed from Pleasure Paradise to Auto Detailing. The McFly family's obituary changed to an article honouring George McFly the author. Jennifer-A started fading fast.

"Jennifer!" Marty cried out.

"You knew this would happen… it's fine… release… take care of Jennifer…" Jennifer-A said, before fading completely. Marty took in a breath, keeping in his horror at killing a Jennifer, even if it meant saving the timeline.

"Everything's back to normal, right?" Marty asked.

*Mission accomplished,* the Doc said. His own newspaper changed from him being committed to him being commended. Jennifer's changed from her kidnapping to her becoming Marty's girlfriend.

*…That became a slow news day…* Jennifer idly remarked.

*The ripple effect! The future is back! Now let's go home!* the Doc said. A bolt of lightning cleaved down, cutting a branch from a nearby tree. Marty jumped.

"Doc! Jennifer! Are you OK?" Marty asked.

*That was a close one…* the Doc said.

"Be careful, Doc! You don't want to get struck by lightning!" Marty cried out. As he said this, no less than three lightning bolts struck the DeLorean. A bright flash of light appeared where the DeLorean was. When it faded, a backwards 99 appeared in its place.

"Doc? Jennifer? Doc, do you read me? Jennifer, do you read me? Come in!" Marty called into the transceiver. The chain of flags that the Doc used to haul Marty up fell to the ground. Marty picked up one end: it was blackened and smoking.

"Doc… Jennifer… no…" Marty said, looking at the smoke in horror.

* * *

 _From out of the West, in a cloud of dust, a thunder of hooves, and a mighty Great Scott! Marty, Doc and Jennifer go back one more time for their greatest adventure of all!_

 _Doc and Jennifer are living in the past, but they're about to be history! It's the last roundup, it's the final showdown where Marty makes a name for himself, Doc meets his mate, Jennifer fights against nature and Tannen meets his match!_

 _Phineas81707 invites you to the rough-riding, rip-roaring, rooting-tooting, straight shooting, rousing conclusion* of Back to the Present!_

 _Back To The Present Chapter IV: The Final Dare!_


	4. The Final Dare

_Dearest Marty_

 _If the Doc's calculations are correct, you will receive this letter immediately after you saw the DeLorean struck by lightning. First, let me assure you that we are both alive and well. We have been living happily these past eight months in the year 1885. The lightning bolt that hit the DeLorean caused a gigawatt overload, scrambling the time circuits, activating the flux capacitor, and sending us through another trip through time. The overload shorted out the time circuits and destroyed the flying circuits. The car will never fly again._

 _The Doc set himself up as a blacksmith as a front while he attempted to repair the damage to the time circuits. This proved impossible because suitable replacement parts will not be invented until 1947. However, he's quite adept at shoeing horses and fixing wagons. Well… I've been helping him out with working metal._

 _The Doc buried the DeLorean in the abandoned Delgado Mine, adjacent to the Old Boot Hill Cemetery, as shown on the Doc's map. Hopefully, it will remain undisturbed and preserved for you to uncover in 1955. Inside, you will find repair instructions. The other Doc, the one in 1955, should have no problem repairing it so that you may drive it back to the future. Once in 1985, destroy the time machine._

 _Do not attempt to come back in time to get us. The Doc is perfectly happy living in the fresh air and wide-open spaces, and he fears that unnecessary time travel only risks further disruption of space time. As for me, it's not that bad, although I am eight months expecting. The Doc urges you to take care of Einstein. Give him a good home, walk him twice a day, and he only likes canned dog food. These are our wishes, please respect them and follow them._

 _And so, Marty… we now say farewell and wish you Godspeed. You've been a good, kind, and loyal boyfriend to me, and the same kind of young man for the Doc. You've made a real difference to both our lives. We will always treasure our respective relationships and think of you with fond memories, warm feelings and a special place in our heart. I will not wish you anything bad should you choose to find another girl: all I want is that you treat her better than how you would have treated me._

 _Your friends in time:_

 _Emmett "Doc" Brown_

 _Virginia "Jenny" Dare_

 _September 1_ _st_ _, 1885_

* * *

 _Here lies Emmett Brown_

 _Died September 7_ _th_ _, 1885_

 _Shot in the back by Buford Tannen over a matter of eighty dollars._

 _Erected in eternal memory by his beloved Clara._

 **(Next grave)**

 _Here lies Virginia Dare_

 _Died September 8_ _th_ _, 1885_

 _Gunned down by Buford Tannen in an attempt to avenge her grandpa._

 _Erected in eternal memory of the daughter she never raised._

* * *

Marty opened the saloon doors, and stepped uncertainly inside. The Doc's outfit had made him less and less sure of himself, as he seemed to be drawing in odd glances from everyone in Hill Valley short of the McFlys.

"Take a look at what just breezed in the door," a cowboy said, sitting at a table to play a game of cards.

"Why, I didn't know the circus was in town!" another one said.

"Looks like he got that shirt off a dead Chinee," a third one said, all three at the same table. Marty nodded uncomfortably, still drawing odd looks. The bartender looked up.

"What'll it be, stranger?" the bartender asked. Marty looked around for a menu of some description, but there was nothing of the sort available.

"I'll have… ice water?" Marty asked. The three cowboys burst into laughter.

"Water? You want water, you dunk your head in the horse trough out there. In here, we pour whiskey," the bartender said, pouring a shot of whiskey to serve to Marty.

"…Anyway, I'm looking for a blacksmith," Marty said. The bartender gave a knowing smile, before it quickly faded.

"McFly!" a dark, yet familiar, voice said from the door. Marty turned, to see a gang of four cowboys that sent the other patrons shivering.

"Oh… my 'pologies. You ain't Seamus McFly. You look like him, though… specially with that ugly hat. You kin to that hay barber?" the cowboy said, all the while approaching him. Marty understood only the insulting parts, so elected to ignore him.

"What's your name, dude?" the cowboy asked again, a tad angrier.

"The name's Eastwood. Clint Eastwood," Marty said, remembering not to address himself as Martin McFly. He suspected doing so would be a big mistake.

"What kind of stupid name is that?" the cowboy said.

"I'd say he's the runt of the litter," one of his cronies said.

"Take a look at those pearly whites. I ain't seen teeth that weren't store bought look that good," the second said.

"And them moccasins. What kind of skins is them? Neekay… what kind of Injun talk is that?" the third said. In this time, the bartender had gone to pour the leader a drink, but the barrel of the cowboy's gun stopped him.

"Bartender… I'm looking for a no good cheating blacksmith, him or his little granddaughter. Seen either?" the cowboy asked.

"No, sir, Mr Tannen, I have not," the bartender said, backing away as fast as possible while still facing him.

"Tannen… Mad Dog Tannen!" Marty said, recognising his adversary. Buford "Mad Dog" Tannen, great-grandfather to Biff Tannen! Apparently, so did everyone else, as everyone in the room suddenly became scarce.

"Mad Dog… I hate that name… I hate it, you hear? Nobody calls me Mad Dog… especially not some duded-up egg-sucking gutter-trash!" Buford said, firing his gun at Marty's feet. Marty jumped into the air, and began an impromptu dance to continue to avoid Buford's continued shots. He moonwalked over to an urn, nudged it, slid forward, and jumped on a loose floorboard, sending the contents of the urn into Buford. Buford growled, and aimed his gun precisely. He was out of shots.

"You'd better run, squirrel," one of the cowboys said. Marty took his advice.

* * *

Marty was running along the main street of Hill Valley, desperately looking for the blacksmith's forge, no matter how much he knew he did not see it on the way in. He felt a whoosh on his stomach, and looked down. He had been lassoed by one of Buford's men, and was now in the process of being dragged all the way back. Grunting and gasping for air, he found himself in front of the construction on the courthouse.

"We got ourselves a new courthouse… high time we had a hanging!" Buford said. Marty realised what was happening, and threw one of his hands into the noose that had been thrown onto his neck. Next thing he knew, he was being dragged up, up, and off the ground, hanging by his neck. Buford and his men were laughing hysterically. Marty's eyes began to water, before

*BANG*

Marty dropped to the ground, his other hand breaking his fall. He pulled the noose from his neck, and rubbed his eyes, looking towards the figure who saved him. He heard Buford and his men draw their guns.

"It'll shoot the fleas off a dog's back at 500 yeards, Tannen… and it's pointed straight at your head!" a female voice cried out. No matter where or when it was, Marty could never fail to recognise Jennifer's voice. Buford's gang set their guns down, and Buford approached Jennifer. Jennifer had relaxed her gun, but considering her claim, it was hard to imagine it being cumbersome to bring it back to Buford's eye level and fire it in a heartbeat, despite her prominent baby bump.

"Your grandpappy owes me money, Dare," Buford said, pointing at Jennifer.

"Name your figure," Jennifer said.

"My horse threw his shoe. Seeing as your grandpappy did the shoeing, I figure that makes him responsible," Buford said.

"Well, since you never paid him for the job, I'd say that makes you even!" Jennifer said.

"WRONG! See, I was on the horse when it threw the shoe and I got throwed off! And that caused me to bust a perfectly good bottle of fine Kentucky Redeye! So the way I figure it, biddy, he owes me five dollars for the whiskey, and seventy-five for the horse!" Buford said.

"Eighty…" Marty whispered hoarsely, remembering the Doc's tombstone… and Jennifer's…

"Look, if your horse threw the shoe, bring him back and we'll reshoe him!" Jennifer said.

"I done shot that horse!" Buford yelled.

"That's your problem, Tannen!" Jennifer said.

"Wrong… it's _yours_. From now on, you go tell your grandpappy that he'd better be looking behind him when he walks. Because one day, you're going to find yourself without a man to pay for that little nipper!" Buford said. Jennifer watched the gang go.

"Misogynist pigs…" she muttered, before turning back to Marty.

"Jen…" Marty tried to say, his throat still a little hoarse.

"Marty… the Doc gave you explicit instructions not to come here, but to go directly back to 1985," Jennifer said, beaming.

"I had to come, Jen…" Marty blurted out.

"Good to see you, Marty," Jennifer said, winking. She gave Marty a hug and a kiss, before turning to walk him to the blacksmith's.

"Marty, we'll get you changed… that outfit's not going to cut it. Don't worry, I'll think of something flattering to tell the locals… oh, and by the way, Marty, my name is Virginia Dare," Jennifer said.

"Isn't she a 16th century figure? Aren't you worried about using that name in the 19th century?" Marty asked.

"…So it wasn't just the Doc… whatever, I don't think anyone here's particularly fussed about the name, to be honest. So, what did you go with?" Jennifer asked.

"Clint Eastwood," Marty said.

"…Why didn't I think of those movies?" Jennifer asked, growling again.

* * *

"Shot in the back by Buford Tannen over a matter of eighty dollars?" the Doc asked, examining the photograph Marty had given him as soon as he arrived. Jennifer was working on the explanation she was going to give to the locals about Marty's arrival (already it contained three impressive feats of bravery and romance) while Marty picked out more suitable Western wear.

"And then there's Virginia's grave… and her child?" Marty called.

"This Monday… now I wish I'd paid him off!" Jennifer said.

"That's in the past now, Ginny… but who on earth is Clara? I don't know anyone named Clara!" the Doc said.

"Really? I thought she was a girlfriend of yours," Marty said.

"Marty… my involvement in such a social relationship here in 1885 would result in a massive disruption of the space-time continuum. As a scientist, I could never take that risk…" the Doc said, deliberately trailing off before turning to the large invention beside him.

"So… Jennifer's, sorry, I mean Virginia's baby-" Marty started.

"Call me Jenny, Marty. It doesn't matter as much in private, but I've already established a casual form of my name as 'Ginny'… sounds close enough, right?" Jennifer said.

"Right… Jenny's baby… that's got nothing to do with not getting a love interest in another time period, right?" Marty asked.

"Nope. Yours, Marty," Jennifer said. Marty wasn't sure whether he was relieved by that.

"Emmett! Ho, Emmett!" a voice called from outside.

"Hubert!" Jennifer said, rushing outside.

"It's the mayor," the Doc told Marty, who nodded.

"Why hello there, Ginny. Do you remember last week, at the town meeting, where your grandfather volunteered to meet the new school teacher at the station after she came in?" Hubert asked, walking into the room, and looking up at the Doc.

"Oh, yes, I remember that," Doc said, nodding at him. Hubert seemed unfazed, so Marty suspected that inventions like this were routine in the Brown Forge.

"We got word she's coming in tomorrow. Ginny, could you please give Emmett the details once he's done with this doo-hickey?" Hubert asked. Jennifer nodded, taking the paper.

"Thanks for all your help, Ginny. Oh, and the teacher's name is Miss Clayton. Clara Clayton," Hubert said. The Doc dropped one of his tools, but Hubert appeared to have missed it. Marty and Jennifer were sharing a glance. Hubert left the room.

"Well, _grandfather_ , now we know who Clara is," Jennifer said. The Doc rolled his eyes.

"Ginny… that's impossible. The idea I could fall in love at first sight is romantic nonsense! There's no scientific rationale for that," the Doc said.

"Doc, that's what happened for me and Jenny! One look at her… cheerleading and one look at my skateboarding, and we couldn't keep our eyes off each other…" Marty said.

"Marty?" Jennifer asked, worried.

"Oh, man, that poor Jennifer… Doc…" Marty said.

"It doesn't matter, Marty. We were incompatible… one of us eventually had to disappear, according to this time travel stuff. You'd have destroyed a Jennifer regardless…" Jennifer said, before trailing off. "I'm not helping, am I?"

"Not really," Marty said.

"This is why I'm trying to avoid… quick, Ginny!" the Doc said, interrupted by the machine's tooting. Jennifer jumped, and turned a valve. The Doc came down the machine, and held a bowl up to a tube. A small clump appeared in the bowl, and the Doc placed it in a beaker of tea.

"I still stay this refrigerator is more trouble than it's worth," Jennifer said.

"Anyway, Miss Clayton will have to find other transportation. I can't fall in love with someone I've never met, right?" the Doc asked.

"…Sure, why not?" Jennifer asked.

"All righty, time to get in the DeLorean and head home," the Doc said.

"Oh, Doc, there's a hole in the gas tank. We'll need to patch it up and get some gas," Marty said flippantly. The Doc turned to Marty, shocked. Jennifer jumped, shivering.

"We're out of gas?" the Doc asked. Marty looked between the two puzzled.

"Yeah, no big deal, we've got Mr Fusion," Marty said.

"Mr Fusion powers the time circuits and the flux capacitor. But the internal combustion engine runs on ordinary gasoline, it always has," the Doc said.

"Marty… this is the time of horses and carriages. There won't be a gas station around here until sometime next century," Jennifer said.

"Without gasoline, we can't get the DeLorean up to 88 miles per hour," the Doc finished.

"Now what?" Marty asked.

* * *

"Well, Doc… there went two ideas," Jennifer said. She had just cleared up the horses they had used to drag the DeLorean, and was watching the Doc and Marty clear up what appeared to be an attempt to use alcohol as fuel.

"I should've suspected as much… last time I used alcohol as a fuel, it was for a rocket-powered drill…" the Doc mumbled.

"So… any new ones?" Jennifer asked.

"We could roll it down a steep hill!" Marty suggested.

"We'd never find a smooth enough surface… wait a minute, ice! We can wait until winter!" the Doc said.

"Winter? Doc, you've got three days until you get shot!" Marty said.

"So, basically… no using its own power, no pulling it… is there anything in 1885 that could _push_ it?" Jennifer asked. As she did so, the sound of a train whistle echoed over Hill Valley. A light bulb appeared over the heads of all three time travellers.

* * *

"How fast can she go? I've done 55 myself. I've heard rumours that fearless Frank Fargo got one of these up near 70 out past Verde Junction," the train engineer said. Marty, Doc and Jennifer were clinging onto his words, wondering if their one hope of hitting 88 was not false.

"Is it possible to get up to… 90?" Marty asked.

"90? Tarnations, sonny, whyd ya ever be in such a hurry?" the engineer asked, laughing.

"Well, it's just a little bet that me and my fiancé have, that's all. Could it be done?" Jennifer asked.

"Well, I suppose if you had a straight track with a level grade… and you weren't hauling no cars behind you, and if you could get the fire hot enough… I'm talking hotter than the blazes of hell and damnation itself… then yes, it might be possible to get her up that fast," the engineer said.

"When's the next train come through?" the Doc asked.

"Monday morning, 8 o'clock," the engineer said.

* * *

"Here!" the Doc said, pointing to a long, level track indicated on the map. Marty and Jennifer studied it.

"This spur runs off the main line down to Clayton Ravine. It's a long stretch of track that still exists in 1985. We will push the DeLorean here!" the Doc said.

"Hm, odd… the map calls Clayton Ravine Shonash Ravine. Must be an old name for it…" Jennifer said.

"Regardless, it's perfect. Nice run that goes clear across the bridge, you know, near the Hilldale housing development?" the Doc said. Jennifer shivered, remembering Hilldale.

"Good one, Doc… but… where's the bridge?" Marty asked.

* * *

"You can scratch that idea," Marty said, as the three looked over the train track that led straight to the ravine. A sheer drop into the trees below made it apparent why these tracks weren't in common use.

"Marty, it's perfect! Just think about things fourth dimensionally!" the Doc said.

"Fourth dimensionally?" Jennifer asked.

"The bridge _will_ exist in 1985. It's safe and in use. As long as we hit 88 before we hit the edge of the ravine, we will be whisked to a time period with a completed bridge! There will be track under us to coast safely across the ravine!" the Doc said.

"And the locomotive?" Marty asked.

"A spectacular wreck that no one will ever see…" the Doc said. The three time travellers heard a panicked female scream, and looked up. A lady was on a buckboard, with her horses running as if the hounds of hell were at their heels.

"Great Scott!" the Doc said, reaching his horse and shooting forward. Jennifer wasn't far behind, and Marty even less so. The three reached the woman, with Jennifer going ahead to the horses.

"Hurry!" the woman said. Jennifer began humming her own special melody, the song she learned had the ability to calm horses for shoeing. At high speed, however, the only thing they did was calm her own horse down. The Doc sighed, and held out his arms. The woman jumped from the wagon, and into the Doc's arms. Marty hurriedly helped him balance on the horse, as the wagon snapped from the horses' reins. The buckboard shivered and shook, careening forward and into the ravine.

"Oh my, thank you, sir, you saved my…" the woman said, shivering. She reached for her hat, and pulled it back over her eyes. The Doc and the woman shared a meaningful glance.

"Life…" the woman finished.

"Emmett Lathrop Brown, at your service," the Doc said.

"Oh… Clara Nell Clayton…" the woman said. Marty and Jennifer looked between each other, an understanding passing between them.

"Clara… what a beautiful name," the Doc said.

* * *

The three time travellers guided Clara to her new cabin, in farmland a short ride from Hill Valley. Doc was riding with Clara, while Marty and Jennifer hung back a short distance.

"May I help you inside with these?" the Doc asked. Marty and Jennifer looked between each other, wondering what caused the Doc's change in heart.

"That won't be necessary, you've done more than enough already…" Clara said.

"It's no trouble!" the Doc said.

"Doc, she said it's fine, and we've gotta get going!" Jennifer said.

"Ma'am, good luck with your school teaching," Marty added, coming forward to pull the Doc away.

"Clara, I'll settle everything with Mr Statler over the buckboard rental. I feel somewhat responsible for what happened here today," the Doc said. Clara was somewhat taken aback.

"Oh… that would be very gentlemanly of you, Mr Brown… Emmett. I'm glad that snake spooked those horses… a little. We might never have met otherwise… I guess destiny had something to do with it," Clara said.

"And it was nice to meet you too, ma'am," Jennifer said.

"I will see you again, won't I?" Clara asked.

"Of course… I have a shop in town. I'm the local scientist… wait, blacksmith!" the Doc said. Jennifer rolled her eyes, and leaned towards Marty.

"He hasn't made that screwup since May," she said.

"Science? What science? Astronomy? Chemistry?" Clara asked.

"I'm a student of all science," the Doc said.

"All right, that's enough, Doc, we've got to get on our way," Marty said.

"Oh… excuse us, Clara," the Doc said, following Marty away.

"All right, Doc, what's the story?" Marty asked, once Clara was out of earshot.

"Clara did have quite the scare, didn't she?" the Doc asked.

"Well, yeah, Miss Clayton did almost end up at the bottom of Clay…ton… hey Marty, did we ever learn about how that ravine got its new name?" Jennifer asked.

"Let me think… that was… oh, right. Clayton Ravine was named after a teacher. They say she fell in there a hundred years ago. Every kid knows that story because they all want to push teachers in there," Marty said.

"A hundred years ago? That's this year!" the Doc said.

"Are we sure about that?" Jennifer asked.

"She was supposed to go over in the wagon… oh my god, what have I done?" the Doc asked.

"What's the worst that could happen? So we get Shonash Ravine instead of Clayton? Big deal!" Marty said.

"…I wish I had never invented that infernal time machine. It has caused nothing but disaster," the Doc said.

* * *

"Can you hear me?" Jennifer asked into her transceiver.

"Yep, loud and clear," Marty said.

"Good to know these still work," the Doc said. The small transceivers that the Doc had picked up had enough battery in them to last them for this juncture. The Doc set his down, and moved to his model. Marty and Jennifer followed suit.

"All right, let's go over this again. Apologies for the crudity of the model-" the Doc started.

"It's not to scale. It's fine," Marty supplied, causing Jennifer's head to shoot up. Neither Doc nor Marty continued, so Jennifer just guessed it was an old joke.

"All right… Tomorrow night, Sunday, we'll load the DeLorean on the tracks at this point, near the old silver mine. It's reasonably close to the switch, but not so close that we'll do some damage by starting. The train leaves at 8:00 Monday. We'll stop it, uncouple the cars from the tender, throw the switch, and then hijack… I mean borrow the locomotive to use to push the DeLorean. I calculate that we'll hit 88 miles per hour before we hit the edge of the ravine, at which point we'll arrive in 1985 and be perfectly safe," the Doc explained, pushing a model train along the track to simulate his point. Marty and Jennifer nodded.

"But what does this mean? Point of no return?" Marty asked.

"This is our failsafe point. Up until then, we have time to stop the locomotive before it plunges into the ravine. But once we pass this windmill, it's the future or bust!" the Doc said. Jennifer looked at it uncertainly.

"Emmett?" a voice asked at the door. The Doc looked up in surprise.

"It's Clara! Cover the DeLorean!" Doc said. Marty and Jennifer jumped into action, and quickly pulled a canvas over the DeLorean. Clara let herself into the room.

"Hello there, kind sirs and gentle madam," Clara said.

"Hello, Clara!" Marty said.

"This is quite the surprise… what may I do for you?" the Doc asked.

"Oh… am I disturbing anything?" Clara asked.

"Oh no, we'd pretty much finished up. Just a little model railroading," Jennifer said.

"Very well… Emmett, my bags have been recovered from the wagon. However, see, the thing is, my telescope was damaged. Since you expressed an interest in science, I thought you might be able to repair it for me… I'd pay, of course," Clara said.

"Oh, no, I wouldn't think of charging you for this," the Doc said. Marty and Jennifer shared a look, rolling their eyes, as the Doc opened the telescope case and took a look of it.

"I think the lens is out of alignment… if you move it this way, the image turns fuzzy… but if you turn it the other way…" Clara said, gesturing to the lens.

"Everything becomes clear…" the Doc said, turning to Clara. They stared into each other's eyes, before Jennifer cleared her throat loudly. Clara and Doc jumped back, looking away from the other sheepishly.

"It will be repaired and returned to you tonight!" the Doc said.

"…Tonight's the town festival. I wouldn't dream of having you work on my telescope during it… you are planning on attending, right?" Clara asked.

"Well, actually, seeing as I'm-" Jennifer started.

"Of course we will, Clara," the Doc said.

"Well, in that case, I'll see you this evening at the festival, Emmett. Mr Eastwood, Miss Dare…" Clara said, turning to leave the stable. The Doc watched her go, grinning like mad.

"…Nice telescope," Jennifer said.

* * *

That night, at the festival, Hubert stood in front of the beginnings of the clock that would eventually be set in the clock tower and be destroyed in seventy years.

"Ladies and gentlemen! As mayor of Hill Valley, it gives me great pleasure to dedicate this clock to the people of Hill County! May it stand for all time! Tell me when, gentlemen!" Hubert said. The townspeople were looking at their own watches, and counting down. With a loud cry of 'now', the clock started ticking, as it would for seventy years, two months, seven days, three hours and four minutes (the Doc gets good at math when he's excited).

"Let the festivities begin!" the mayor proclaimed. Marty, Doc and Jennifer beamed at the sight.

"Marty… in a way, it's fitting that you and I are here to witness this," the Doc said.

"Too bad I forgot my camera," Marty replied. Jennifer looked between the two, before a huge flash commanded the attention of all three time travellers. They paid for a shot, and took their positions around the clock (Marty to the left, Doc to the right, and Jennifer in Marty's arms) for their shot.

"The only problem is we'll never be able to show it to anybody," the Doc said.

"Just smile, Doc," Marty replied, as the camera flashed.

* * *

The dance floor opened up, and Marty and Jennifer were among the first on the dance floor. Jennifer's story had opened the people of Hill Valley's hearts to the mysterious Clint Eastwood, and all of them had admired Virginia Dare already. It was no surprise that they were happy to see the young couple together again after their long separation. The Doc watched them as much as he watched the other couples once they got on the floor, looking around for someone else. Clara Clayton smiled, and approached him.

"Evening," the Doc said, bowing.

"Evening," Clara responded, performing a deep curtsey.

"You look very nice," the Doc said nervously. Clara nodded in appreciation, before beginning to twiddle her thumbs.

"Would you care to…" the Doc started, gesturing in the vague direction of Marty and Jennifer.

"I'd love to," Clara said, holding out one hand. The Doc took it, and Clara led him in the classic western dance. Doc followed with great gusto.

"Hey, Jenny, the Doc can dance!" Marty said, gesturing to the Doc. Jennifer revolved the pair, and took her own look.

"Probably better than you," Jennifer remarked.

"Hey, I haven't missed a step since homecoming!" Marty said.

"Which was a few weeks ago… well, in a hundred years, but you get the point!" Jennifer said.

"Can you stop making the timeline more confusing than it needs to be?" Marty asked.

"Sorry… I _am_ still new to this. I've only been out of my time period for eight months," Jennifer said.

"…You might need to sit down, Ginny," Marty said.

"Maybe I will, Clint," Jennifer said, and the pair broke apart.

* * *

"Why, hello, Mr Eastwood," Seamus McFly, accompanied by his wife Maggie and son William, said to Marty, approaching him.

"Seamus," Marty said, nodding as he took a bite from a pie.

"Nice to see you. I see you've got some respectable clothes now, lad. And quite the fine hat," Seamus said.

"Yeah, a couple of people *cough*Tannen*cough* didn't like the way the other one looked…" Marty said, rubbing his throat uncomfortably.

"Looks quite good on you, Mr Eastwood," Maggie said.

"Thanks," Marty said, and he finished his pie. He saw the engraving at the base. It was one of Frisbie's Pies.

"Hey, Frisbee! Far out!" Marty said, smiling. He scooped it up, and grabbed another two pies for Jennifer before walking away.

"…What?" Seamus asked.

"It was right in front of him," Maggie suggested.

* * *

The Doc and Clara took a slow dance, spinning around the field. To Doc's surprise and horror, one movement found the small of his back nursing the barrel of a tiny gun.

"I told your little biddy to tell you to watch your back, Smithy. How fitting… the last thing you hear is that your granddaughter's abandoned you for some weird out-of-towner," Buford Tannen muttered into his ear.

"Tannen, you're early," the Doc said.

"Derringer, Smithy. Small, but effective. Last time I used this, the fellow took two days to die. Bled to death from the inside, real painful. If my math's correct, that means you'll be dead suppertime Monday," Buford said. The Doc took a moment to recalculate Buford's math, before accepting Buford's words at face value.

"Excuse me, buster, I don't know who you think you are, but we're dancing," Clara said, rolling her eyes.

"Well, lookie what we have here…" Buford said. The words sent shivers down Doc and Clara's spines. "Introduce me to the lady, I'd like a dance!"

"Over my dead body!" the Doc said.

"No, Emmett, just leave it, I'll take this dance," Clara said.

"Boys, keep the blacksmith company while I get acquainted with the filly!" Buford proclaimed, pushing Doc into his gang's arms while he grabbed onto Clara and began a dance. He was quite rambunctious and loud in his movements.

"I don't dance very well when my partner has a gun in his hand," Clara said, attempting to use her powers as a teacher to diffuse the situation.

"You'll learn… Smithy, I might just take my $80 out of her! I bet there's something you can do worth $80," Buford said, addressing both Doc and Clara. Clara smiled.

"I'm afraid you've underestimated my talent," Clara said. Buford raised an eyebrow, only to find Clara's heel in his shin. Buford let go of Clara, and Clara slapped him silly, backing away from him. The Doc broke away from the gang.

"Damn you, Tannen!" the Doc said. The music stopped, and all eyes turned to Doc and Buford. Marty looked up from giving Jennifer a pair of pies, the empty plate still in his other hand.

"No… I damn you. I damn you to hell," Buford said, raising his gun. Jennifer got to her feet, grabbed the Frisbie plate, and tossed it. Her aim struck true, knocking Buford's bullet off course. The only casualty in the brawl was the Doc's hat. Buford turned, and noticed Jennifer, another pie plate in hand (the pie was on the floor).

"DARE!" Buford yelled. Jennifer approached Buford.

"LIGHTEN UP, JERK!" Jennifer said. Buford turned to his gang, who shrugged. Jennifer realised her words had no meaning.

"Mighty strong words, biddy… you think you can back that up with more than pie plates, woman?" Buford asked.

"Just leave my friends alone… trust me, you haven't seen the worst of me," Jennifer said, turning back to Marty.

"What's the matter, biddy? You yellow?" Buford asked. Marty's eyes narrowed.

"Marty, leave it," Jennifer growled. Marty walked forward with purpose, the other pie dropping to the ground.

"Nobody. Calls. Virginia. Dare. Yellow," Marty said, staring down Buford. Jennifer's head sunk into her hands.

"All right, then. Let's clean up the mess your little woman made, right now!" Buford said.

"Um… Buford, the Marshall's got our guns," one of his gang members said.

"Like I said, we'll finish this tomorrow!" Buford said.

"Tomorrow we're robbing the Pine City Stage," a second gang member said.

"Monday?" Buford asked, growling.

"Monday's good," the third gang member said sheepishly.

"All right, Eastwood. I'll be back this way Monday. We'll settle this then. Right there, on the street, in front of the Palace Saloon," Buford said.

"When? High noon?" Marty asked.

"Noon? I do my killing before breakfast. Seven o'clock!" Buford commanded.

"…Nine o'clock. I do my killing _after_ breakfast," Marty commanded back. The two stared between each other. Everyone else stared at them.

"All right, now what's all this about? You causing trouble, Tannen?" the Marshall asked, coming on stage with a rifle.

"No trouble. Just a little personal matter between me and Eastwood. This don't concern the law," Buford said.

"Tonight, everything concerns the law, now break it up! Any brawling, it's fifteen days in the county jail. Now come on, this is a party! Let's have some fun!" the Marshall said, before turning away. The music came back on.

"9:00 Monday… you ain't here, I'll hunt you down and shoot you like a duck," Buford said. Marty looked at Buford, confused.

"It's dog. Shoot him down like a dog," a gang member supplied.

"Let's go, boys! Let these sissies have their party!" Buford said, leaving the town in a huff. The Doc came to Marty's side.

"Marty? What are you doing, saying you'll meet Tannen?" the Doc asked.

"Doc, don't worry! Monday morning, 8AM, we're leaving!" Marty assured the Doc.

"Theoretically, yes, but what if there _is_ no train?" the Doc asked.

"No train?" Marty asked. Clara approached the two, and the Doc suddenly appeared to be no longer open to discussion.

"Thank you for your gallantry, Mr Eastwood. Had you and Miss Dare not interceded, Emmett might have been shot!" Clara said.

"Um… Clint, I'm going to take Clara home," the Doc said. Before Marty could respond, he was dragged off by a few other people.

"You set him straight, Mr Eastwood. I'm glad somebody finally stood up to that son of a bitch!" the first man said.

"You're all right in my book, Mr Eastwood. I'd like to buy you a drink," the second man siad.

"Hey, please, I'm good," Marty said.

"Young man, I'd like you to have this brand new Colt Peacemaker, free of charge," a man said, holding out a gun in its belt. Marty looked at it.

"I want _everyone_ to know that the gun that shot Buford Tannen was a **Colt Peacemaker**!" the man said, pronouncing the last words quite proudly.

"Thanks?" Marty asked, concerned. He was sure Jennifer had something better.

"Of course, if you lose… I'm taking it back!" the man said, leaving. Marty rolled his eyes, and spotted Seamus and Maggie.

"You had him, Mr Eastwood! You could've just walked away and nobody would have thought less of you for it. All it was was words, hot air from a buffoon. Instead you let him rile you. Rile you into playing his game, his way, his rules!" Seamus said. Marty rolled his eyes again.

"Seamus, relax, I know what I'm doing," Marty said.

"He reminds me of Martin," Maggie said, to Seamus's agreement.

"Who?" Marty asked, his name striking him.

"My brother," Seamus said.

"You have a brother named Martin McFly?" Marty asked, shocked.

"Had a brother. Martin used to let men provoke him into fighting. He was concerned people would think him coward if he refused. He found a bowie knife shoved through his belly in a saloon in Virginia City. Never considered the future, poor Martin, God rest his soul," Seamus said, shaking his head.

"Sure hope you're considering the future, Mr Eastwood," Maggie said. She and Seamus left Marty to his thoughts.

* * *

Marty and Jennifer woke up the next morning to find themselves alone in the home. Marty looked idly at the Peacemaker that the man had given him, thinking something over. He turned to the mirror, and pointed the gun at it.

"You talking to me? You talking to me, Tannen? …Well, I'm the only one here. Go ahead… make my day…" Marty said into the mirror. Jennifer smirked, taking the eggs and pancakes that the Doc's machines had gotten to baking. Delicious food with no effort. Jennifer and her baby found herself grateful for the Doc's ingenuity more times than she could remember.

"Listen, Marty, about last night…" Jennifer started.

"Yeah?" Marty asked, hurriedly putting the gun down.

"Sorry about that… I've just been feeling so tetchy lately," Jennifer said, rubbing her belly.

"…Sorry I missed the pregnancy," Marty said.

"Ah, you didn't miss much. I'm just wondering what we're going to tell our parents," Jennifer said. Marty's eyes widened, and he let out a long moan.

"I'd forgotten about them completely, now what?" Marty asked.

"Your parents should be fine… they're really cool. But my father's a police officer…" Jennifer said.

"…Probably should've aborted it," Marty said.

"Marty, it's the 1880s. Abortion is illegal. Not to mention unsafe. Plus, I don't think I'd want one," Jennifer said.

"I was just saying… you said you were eight months expecting?" Marty asked.

"Yeah. It's not coming out anytime soon," Jennifer said.

"…We'll just have to cross our fingers, then… I'll come up with something…" Marty said, starting to panic on the inside.

"…Marty, you challenged the maddest gunman in the Old West to a duel, and you're worried about me and little Sylvia? You really are a keeper," Jennifer said, beaming.

"Sylvia?" Marty asked, shocked.

"…What, you wanted to name it?" Jennifer asked.

"…Why Sylvia?" Marty asked, curious.

"I heard the name once… it was so beautiful…" Jennifer said.

"Well, then, if it's a girl, we'll go with Sylvia Dare McFly," Marty said.

"…So, where did Doc go?" Jennifer asked, partly to get her mind off the baby.

"I'm going to guess… Clara," Marty said.

* * *

Marty and Jennifer walked down the main street of Hill Valley, politely acknowledging everyone's praises for tomorrow's shootout. Jennifer pointed out Doc, sniffing a lavender pin on his coat. Marty and Jennifer approached him, noticing that it was from Clara.

"What are you doing?" Marty asked.

"Nothing… just out enjoying the morning air… it's lovely here in the morning…" the Doc said.

"I'll take your word for it. Doc, we've gotta load the DeLorean and get ready to roll," Marty said, before pausing. There were freshly carved tombstones lying in front of a store. He checked the photograph. The plain tombstone that would become the Doc's and the sweetheart-topped one that would become Jennifer's were on display, empty and awaiting a dead man or woman to acknowledge. He checked the photograph again.

"Hey guys, look at this!" Marty said. The Doc and Jennifer looked at the photograph, and noticed that the names and acknowledgements had been wiped: all that remained were the 'Here lies' and the date, the '8th' on Jennifer's being removed.

"This is… we know this photograph represents what will happen if we continue upon the path laid forward without time travel or interference from us," the Doc said.

"Come again?" Marty asked, before a man came walking up to him and taking his measurements.

"Get away from my boyfriend, creep!" Jennifer shouted.

"Cool yourself, missy. I'm just taking his measurements," the man said.

"What for?" Marty asked.

"Your coffin," the man said simply. Marty and Jennifer looked between each other, shocked.

"Well, the odds are two to one against you. Might as well be prepared," the man said, walking off. The Doc looked at Marty.

"It may not be my name that will wind up on this tombstone… it may be yours…" the Doc said.

"…At least it can't be as bad as Jennifer's tombstone," Marty said, trying to draw comfort from the horrible situation.

"…Marty… you won't be fighting Tannen, right? I mean… I can't lose you… I could never lose you…" Jennifer said. Marty looked at her, and realised what must have been running through her mind when she wrote the letter telling him to never see her again…

"Jennifer Parker, I'm going back to the future with you. But if Buford Tannen comes looking for trouble, I'll be ready. You heard what that son of a bitch called you last night," Marty said.

"Marty, you mustn't keep losing your judgement every time someone uses names. That's exactly what causes you to get into that accident in the future," Jennifer said, before stopping herself. She looked at the Doc, her eyes wide with fear.

"What… What about my future?" Marty asked, looking between Doc and Jennifer.

"…It might make things worse…" the Doc said.

"Doc… what is _wrong_ with my future?" Marty asked, looking at Jennifer.

"Marty, we must all make decisions to affect the course of our lives. You've gotta do what you've gotta do…" the Doc said mysteriously.

* * *

"Marty, Jennifer… I'm not going with you tomorrow… I'm staying here," the Doc said that night, as the two tended to the DeLorean on the unused railroad.

"Doc?" Marty asked, looking concerned.

"There's no denying it, Marty. I'm in love with Clara," the Doc said.

"Doc! We don't belong here! None of us do! You know, it could still be you that gets shot tomorrow! This tombstone could still be yours… and just who exactly do you think is going to get the other?" Jennifer said, holding up the picture of the tombstones.

"Jennifer, the future isn't written. It can be changed. Anyone can make their future whatever they want it to be. This one photograph can't dictate my entire destiny. I have to live according to what I believe is right in my heart!" the Doc said.

"Doc, Doc, Doc… you're a scientist. You tell me… what's the right thing to do up here?" Marty asked, pointing to his forehead. The Doc looked between the photograph and Marty, and then again to Jennifer's baby bump.

"You're right, Marty…" the Doc said. He threw a switch, and the DeLorean fell from its platform onto the tracks.

"I've at least got to tell her goodbye," the Doc said.

"Doc… you said you wanted to learn about women… well, here: what are you going to tell her? You can't say you have to return to the future! She's not going to understand that. I'm in it with you and I don't even understand it!" Jennifer said.

"I dunno, Doc… we could take Clara with us," Marty said. The Doc shook his head.

"Marty, you are correct. I am a scientist, so I must be scientific. I cautioned you both about disrupting the continuum for personal benefit. I must practice as I preach. We will proceed as planned, and when we reach 1985, we will destroy this infernal machine… travelling through time is much too painful…" the Doc said, walking off. Jennifer sighed, and Marty helped her into the DeLorean, where she could sleep comfortably.

* * *

The Doc approached Clara's door, before hesitating. Jennifer was right: he couldn't tell the truth. He mulled it over, before coming up with a metaphorical truth. He knocked at the door, and Clara answered it.

"Emmett… won't you come in?" Clara asked sweetly, smiling at Doc.

"I'd better not… see, I've come to say goodbye," the Doc said.

"Goodbye? Where are you going?" Clara asked.

"I'm going away… and I'll never see you again, I'm afraid," the Doc said.

"Emmett…" Clara said.

"Clara… I care about you deeply, more deeply than the largest numbers known to man can express, but I've realised that I don't belong here, and I must return to where I came from," the Doc said.

"Where's that?" Clara asked.

"…I can't say…" the Doc said.

"Well, wherever you're going, take me with you," Clara said.

"I can't… Clara, I wish it didn't have to be this way… just believe me when I say that I'll never forget you. Clara… I love you," the Doc said.

"I don't understand what you're trying to say…" Clara said.

"I don't think there's any way you can understand it," the Doc said.

"…I must know. Emmett… if you sincerely do love me, tell me the truth…" Clara said.

"…All right, Clara. I'll tell you. I'm from the future. I came here in a time machine that I invented with young Miss Virginia Dare, actually called Jennifer Parker, and tomorrow I will be returning to the year 1985 with both Jennifer and Clint Eastwood, actually named Marty McFly," the Doc said. Clara nodded soothingly, appeasing the Doc.

"I do understand… I understand that because you _know_ I'm partial to the writings of Jules Verne you expected that those mendacities you concocted would excuse you from TAKING ADVANTAGE OF ME!" Clara yelled, slapping Doc across the face. But she was far from done.

"I've heard some _whoppers_ from my students, but the notion that you'd expect me to believe this is just INSULTING AND DEGRADING! All you had to say was that you didn't love me and didn't want to see me anymore. THAT AT LEAST WOULD HAVE BEEN RESPECTFUL!" Clara continued on, before slamming her door.

"But… but that's not the truth…" the Doc said, knowing it would be in vain. He detached the lavender flower from his coat, and left it by the windowsill. He walked off, oblivious to Clara's tears.

* * *

The next morning, Jennifer awoke, and left the DeLorean. She looked around, and noticed Marty asleep by the fire. The Doc was nowhere to be found.

"Oh no… no, no, no, no, no, no…" Jennifer said. "MARTY!" Marty jolted awake, and looked around.

"Doc?" Marty asked. He and Jennifer shared a panicked glance, before hopping astride their horses and bolting back to town.

* * *

"In the future… we don't need horses. We'll have horseless carriages called automobiles," the Doc said, holding a shot of whiskey in the saloon. The old timers he was addressing chuckled.

"If everybody's got an autowhatsis, does anybody walk or run anymore?" one of them asked.

"Of course they do. But it's for recreation, for fun," the Doc said.

"Run for fun? What the hell kind of fun is that?" the old timer said.

"Bartender, how much has he had?" another asked.

"None. That's his first one and he hasn't touched it yet. He just likes to hold it," the bartender said. At that moment, two figures burst into the saloon. Marty and Jennifer ran up to the Doc, looking at him.

"What are you doing, Doc? Don't you remember the 4th of July?" Jennifer asked. It was Marty's turn to miss a reference.

"I've lost her, Jennifer. There's nothing left for me here," the Doc said.

"All right, so you can come back with us," Marty said.

"Where?" the Doc asked, confused.

"BACK TO THE FUTURE!" Marty and Jennifer shouted in unison.

"…Right, let's get going!" the Doc said. He turned to the old timers. "Excuse me, gentlemen, but we have to go and catch a train," the Doc said.

"Here's to you, blacksmith," one of the old timers said.

"And to the future," a second added.

"Amen," the third finished.

"Amen!" the Doc said, taking his glass and drinking the shot.

"EMMETT!" the bartender cried out.

"DOC!" Jennifer added. The Doc had finished the glass, and took a step. He froze, and fell flat on his face into a table, sending glasses flying.

"Doc!" Marty cried out, shaking the Doc furiously.

"How many this time?" Jennifer asked.

"Just the one," the bartender said.

"…Just the one? It took him five on the 4th of July!" Jennifer said.

"There's a fellow who can't hold his liquor," the bartender said.

"Get some coffee. Black," Marty said.

"You want him sobered up in a hurry, honey, you're going to need to use something a lot stronger than coffee," Jennifer said.

"What do you suggest?" Marty asked. Jennifer turned to the bartender.

"Chester… I think you know what to do," Jennifer said.

"Joey! Let's make some wake-up juice!" the bartender, Chester, said. Joey nodded, and pulled up a series of bottles. Chester and Joey poured the contents of each bottle into one flask.

"In about ten minutes, he's going to be as sober as a priest on Sunday," Chester said.

"Ten minutes! Why do we have to cut these things so damn close?" Marty asked, looking at the time: 7:50. Chester returned, with the flask, a funnel and a clothespin.

"Marty, stand back," Jennifer said, accepting the three objects. She stuck the clothespeg on his nose, and the funnel in his mouth. She stepped back as far as her arm would allow, and poured the juice. She jumped back, as the Doc got to his feet, and ran outside to the horse trough.

"And that was the reflex…" Jennifer said. Marty looked at her, wondering what on earth happened that made Jennifer so blasé about this.

* * *

"Seamus! Wouldn't expect to see you here!" the bartender said, watching as Marty and Jennifer continued to administrate the Doc. The clock was ticking closer and closer to eight, and the Doc was still out like a light.

"Aye. But something told me I should be here. As if my future had something to do with it," Seamus remarked. Silence hung, before a loud voice shook up the bar.

"Are you in there, Eastwood? It's nine o'clock, and I'm calling you out!" Buford Tannen said, standing outside the saloon menacingly.

"It's nowhere near 9:00!" Marty yelled in annoyance.

"It is by my watch! Let's settle this once and for all, runt… unless you ain't got the guts," Buford said. Marty looked down at the tombstone photo. The names Clint Eastwood and Virginia Dare were appearing on them, both marked for the 7th.

"Listen… I'm not feeling up to this today. I'm going to forfeit!" Marty said.

"Forfeit?" Buford yelled. He turned his head, and had a short conversation with a gang member.

"Hey, you can't do that! You know what I think? I think you're just a gutless yellow turd! And I'm giving you to the count of 10 to come out here and prove me wrong!" Buford said. He began his counting.

"You'd better get going, son. I've got $20 gold on you, so don't let me down," an old timer said.

"I've got $30 gold bet against you, so don't let _me_ down!" another said.

"You'd better face up to it, son… because if you don't go out there… you're a coward," a third said.

"And you'll be branded a coward for the rest of your days!" a fourth added.

"Everybody everywhere will say Clint Eastwood is the biggest yellow belly in the west," the third added. Marty nursed his gun, the Colt Peacemaker. He hadn't the time to pick up one of Ginny's toys, so that was what he was going with.

"Ten! I said ten, gutless yellow belly! And I only made _one_ mistake, so you'd _better_ notice this!" Buford said. Marty rolled his eyes.

"He's an asshole! I don't care what Tannen says! And I don't care what anybody else says, either!" Marty yelled. As if in reward for his statement, the Doc got to his feet, nursing a headache.

"Doc!" Marty cried out.

"Marty, quickly, to the back door," Jennifer said, grabbing Marty's hand, and guiding him out. The Doc followed behind uncertainly. Jennifer opened the door, and she and Marty came into an alleyway. They were spotted, however, and Jennifer thrust Marty into a shed. She raised her hands, the whistle of the train in her ears. Two gang members moved forward, and grabbed Jennifer's arms, pulling her onto the street. Marty pulled back a curtain, looking onto the road at the sight.

"Jennifer…" Marty said.

"Listen here, Eastwood. I'm going to shoot somebody today, and I'd rather it be you! But if you're just too damn yellow… I guess it'll just have to be this feisty piece of calico who's been causing so much trouble out here in my turf…" Buford said.

"Forget about me, Marty! Save yourself!" Jennifer cried out. Marty remembered, around this time yesterday, what Jennifer had told him. He couldn't leave her. He wouldn't leave her.

"You've got one minute to decide. You hear? One minute!" Buford yelled.

* * *

"Time's up, runt!" Buford yelled, at the end of the silent, long minute. He pulled out his gun, and pointed it at Jennifer.

"Prepare to meet your superior, Dare," Buford said.

"Misogynist pig," Jennifer said defiantly.

"I'm right here, Tannen!" Marty yelled, walking onto the street, and standing in standard Western position. Buford did the same, his gang members dragging Jennifer to one side. Buford stared him down.

"Draw!" Buford commanded.

"NO!" Marty said, holding his gun belt out, before tossing it aside. Everyone was staring at him, confused.

"I thought we could settle this like men," Marty said.

"Thought wrong, dude," Buford said, drawing and firing. Marty was struck right in the heart, and blasted into the sands. Buford laughed, proud of his kill. He walked along the street, as the townspeople looked on in horror. Buford reached Marty, and pointed his gun down, preparing a safety shot.

The gun was kicked from his hand. Buford looked on in shock, as Marty resumed his feet, smirking.

"The heart, Buford. Don't forget the heart. Aim for the heart or you'll never stop me," Marty quoted. Buford took this to heart, and punched Marty right where his heart should be. He reared back, screaming in pain. Marty lifted up his poncho, revealing a stove plate in front of his chest. Buford screamed, as Marty smacked him upside the head using the plate. Jennifer pulled away from the gang, as Marty threw a punch. Jennifer threw her own. Buford roared, and aimed for Jennifer's gut. Marty growled, and struck him, sending him crashing into the tombstone that would become Doc's. He got to his feet unsteadily, not noticing Jennifer until it was too late. Jennifer brought down her own tombstone on Buford's head, sending in spinning for Marty's kick. Buford was sent face down into Old Jone's Manure cart. Marty and Jennifer gave each other a high-five. A thunder of hooves sounded, as the Marshall's deputy galloped onto the scene.

"Deputy Parker!" Jennifer said, waving. Marty looked at the Deputy, Jennifer's ancestor, in awe as he pointed at Buford's gang members, sending men after them. Two men hauled Buford out of the cart, and into the barrel of Parker's gun.

"Buford Tannen, you're under arrest for the murder of Marshall Strickland. You have anything to say for yourself?" Deputy Parker proclaimed. Everyone's hands jumped to their mouth in horror. Buford's just opened, sending manure from it.

"I hate manure…" Buford said. Marty and Jennifer looked at the photograph. Not a tombstone in sight. The Doc came rushing out of the saloon to the pair of them, before hearing the train whistle.

"The train!" he said.

"Can we make it?" Marty asked. The Doc gave it a quick thought.

"We'll have to cut it off at Coyote Pass," the Doc said, whistling. Their horses came charging, and the three time travellers boarded.

"Hey Mister Eastwood! Here's your gun Mister," a young boy said, holding up the Colt Peacemaker. Marty smiled, and took it from him. He looked up, and saw Seamus.

"Seamus! Worth $12, never been used," Marty said, tossing him the gun. Seamus looked at it knowingly.

"Maybe I'll trade it for a new hat," Seamus said.

"Take care of that baby!" Jennifer said, leading the two boys from the town.

"I will!" Seamus called after them.

* * *

Jennifer led the group of horses to the trains. The stars were aligned: the train had been delayed. There was plenty of time. Marty and Doc surged forward, climbing onto the train. Jennifer nodded after them, changing course. It had been agreed (after much argument) that the climactic clamber over the moving train was too dangerous for Jennifer to do in her current state. The Doc and Marty hopped on to the train, and ran along it. Sure enough, it was a little hard going for them: Jennifer would've been screwed. They slid some makeshift masks over their mouths, and clambered into the cab.

"Reach for the sky!" the Doc commanded the engineer. The engineer turned, and complied.

"Is this a holdup?" the engineer asked. Marty shot him a glare.

"It's a science experiment! Stop the train before you hit the switch track up ahead," the Doc ordered. The engineer complied, the switch in sight. Marty ran up to it, and changed the tracks over.

"Uncouple the cars from the tender!" the Doc commanded. The engineer did so, and the Doc started the engine. Marty boarded the train, as it headed to the DeLorean with a hearty whistle.

* * *

Marty and Doc came up to the DeLorean, with Jennifer sitting astride it. She was holding three bundles of something, numbered one through three and in green, yellow and red.

"What are those things?" Marty asked, as the Doc took them from her grasp.

"The Doc's version of Presto Logs. A little bit of this and a little bit of that. Short version, they help fire burn hotter and longer. We use them in the forge so I don't have to stoke it when I'm working metal," Jennifer explained.

"These ones will light the fire sequentially, making the fire burn hotter, kick up the boiler pressure and make the train go faster," the Doc said. Marty nodded, and he and Jennifer climbed into the DeLorean. The three transmitters were all turned on, and the Doc started the train.

"Marty, are the time circuits on?" the Doc asked. Marty turned them on.

"Check, Doc!" Marty responded.

"Input the destination time of October 27th, 1985, 11AM," the Doc said. Marty did so, the destination time lighting up.

"Check, Doc! All right, we're cruising at 25 miles an hour," Marty said.

"I'm throwing in the Presto Logs!" the Doc said. There was silence from his end, barring the three whooses of flame as the logs were put in.

"Marty, I installed a new gauge on the DeLorean, rigged to show us the boiler temperature. The colour coding indicates when each log will fire. Green, yellow, red. Each detonation will be accompanied by a sudden burst in acceleration. Hopefully, we'll hit 88 miles an hour before the needle goes much past two thousand," the Doc said.

"What happens at two thousand?" Jennifer asked.

"The whole boiler explodes," the Doc said simply.

"Perfect," Marty said. In demonstration, the green log exploded, sending green smoke from the smokestack.

"35!" Marty called.

"OK, Marty, I'm coming aboard!" the Doc responded. The Doc climbed out of the cab, and heard an odd shout. He ignored it, and moved along.

"Yellow log!" Jennifer called. The Doc grabbed a tight hold, and the explosion happened. Yellow smoke started spewing, and the DeLorean hit 40. The DeLorean's door opened, and the Doc made to jump on board.

The train's whistle! The Doc looked up, and turned back to the cab. Clara was waving from the cab.

"Emmett!" Clara cried out.

"Clara!" the Doc exclaimed.

"I love you!" Clara said sheepishly.

"Doc?" Marty asked.

"It's Clara! She's on the train!" the Doc said.

"Clara… perfect," Jennifer said.

"The only way this could get any tighter was if you went into labour right now," Marty snarked.

"She's in the cab! I'm going to go back for her!" the Doc told them. At that moment, the DeLorean passed the windmill.

"…Doc! We passed the windmill, we're going past 50, we can't shut her down!" Marty cried out.

"Then she'll just have to come with us! Keep calling the speed!" the Doc suggested. He turned to Clara, and shouted, "Clara, climb out to me!"

"I don't know if I can!" Clara cried.

"You can do it! Just don't look down!" the Doc urged. Clara pulled herself out of the cab, and onto the railing on the outside of the train. At 60 and with Doc's encouragement, she slowly approached the Doc. The train struck seventy, and she was almost at the Doc.

"DOC! RED LOG!" Jennifer shouted. The boiler shattered, red smoke started spewing, the DeLorean derailed, and Doc and Clara were hanging on by a thread. Literally, in Clara's case: her dress was the only thing stopping her from falling. Marty looked around the back of the DeLorean for something useful. His eyes lit on the hoverboard.

"Doc, the hoverboard!" Marty said. Jennifer took it, and lay it on the ground. The DeLorean was at 80 with a quarter-mile to go. Jennifer dropped the hoverboard, which shot into the Doc's foot. The Doc used it to catch Clara in the nick of time. Triumphantly, the two flew into the sunrise aboard the hoverboard. No time for them, the DeLorean was a hair away from the ravine.

84… 85… 86… 87…

88 MILES AN HOUR!

The DeLorean vanished into fire trails. The locomotive careened off the edge of the ravine, into its depths in a fiery explosion.

* * *

The DeLorean shot across the ravine over the bridge spanning the ravine. A sign denoted the ravine's name as Dare Ravine.

"Hey, look, I'm a local celebrity," Jennifer idly remarked, looking at the sign. Marty watched the DeLorean slowly coast along the rails, before slowing down to eventually stop.

"Come along, Jennifer, we've gotta get this thing some attention, get some gas, and then we can," Marty started.

"MARTY!" Jennifer cried out. A train's whistle denoted the presence of another train. Marty opened the DeLorean's door, and jumped out.

"Jennifer!" Marty called out. Jennifer clambered over the seat, took in a breath, and jumped. Just in the nick of time: the train smashed the DeLorean to smithereens. The train moved on, and all Marty and Jennifer were left with were assorted bits and bobs that were vaguely recognisable as old DeLorean parts. The licence plate spun around on the spot, and collapsed.

"Well, Doc… it's destroyed. Just like you wanted," Marty said, looking at the remains. Marty and Jennifer took a moment of silence, before moving away.

* * *

Three weeks later, things had settled into a dull routine. The Parkers weren't worried about the pregnancy so much as how Jennifer went from empty to eight months in the span of a single night. The McFlys saw their youngest boy grow into a fine man. The two were making a quick round near Hilldale when Needles pulled up beside them.

"Hey! The big M! How's it hanging, McFly?" Needles asked. Marty sighed.

"Hey, Needles," Marty said flippantly.

"You know, that's a nice set of wheels… but I haven't seen what she can do. Next green light," Needles said. Marty caught his intention.

"No thanks," Marty said.

"What's the matter? Chicken?" Needles asked. Marty rolled his eyes, and moved his shift.

"Marty…" Jennifer said worriedly. Needles was revving his engine, masking the fact that Marty wasn't following suit. The traffic light turned green, and Needles roared away, Marty not having moved an inch.

"What the?" Jennifer asked, surprised by the lack of movement.

"What, I'm supposed to have raced that asshole?" Marty asked. The pair continued to watch Needles tear away, until he eventually hastily dodged a Rolls Royce. Marty realised with a start that he wouldn't have been so lucky.

"Jen!" Marty cried out. Jennifer reached into her pocket, and pulled out the photograph she had carried with her all that time. The image of the wounded Marty and wheelchair-bound Jennifer changed on the spot, to a much brighter setting, more obviously a wedding with Marty in a tux and Jennifer in a wedding dress… and a raven-haired toddler holding Jennifer's hand. Jennifer turned to Marty.

* * *

Marty and Jennifer returned to the site of the DeLorean's destruction. There was seemingly little rhyme or reason for it, mainly to scoop up a few of the trinkets from it. Unfortunately for them, the various parts had been scooped up and hauled away.

"Doc's never coming back…" Marty said solemnly.

"Maybe it was for the best…" Jennifer added, no less upset. The crossing bells started ringing, and Marty and Jennifer stepped back. But there was no train coming in from either direction…

Three triumphant booms! A massive train, covered in all sorts of odd bits and pieces and bearing the label 'E.L.B.' appeared in front of the pair. The cab was in front of them, and a familiar figure emerged to look about.

"Doc!" Marty cried out.

"MARTY!" the Doc exclaimed, noticing the pair. He stepped back, and opened the cab of the train, to reveal the train's other occupants.

"Meet the family. Clara, you'll both know," Doc said.

"Hi, Marty, Jennifer," Clara said, waving at them.

"Ma'am!" Marty said. Jennifer was just smiling in awe.

"And these are our boys! Jules and Verne!" the Doc said, revealing two rather adorable little tykes, one putting on an adult-like face, and the other grinning like a little scamp.

"Nice to meet you two," Jennifer said, smiling at the two.

"Doc, I'd thought I'd never see you again," Marty said.

"You can't keep a good scientist down. After all, I had to come back for Einstein and I didn't want you to be worried about me. Besides, if my calculations are correct, isn't today…" the Doc asked.

"Pardon?" Jennifer asked.

"Ah… must've been off. Oh, and a little souvenir…" the Doc said, as Clara handed him a little parcel. Marty opened it, to see the framed picture of him, the Doc and Jennifer in front of the clock.

"It's great, Doc…" Marty said.

"Um, Doc… remember Marty and I's future? Well… that photograph… it's changed!" Jennifer said, holding out the picture she took from her own house.

"Of course it has!" the Doc said.

"But… what does that mean?" Jennifer asked.

"It means your future hasn't been written yet! No one's has! Your future is whatever you make of it! So make it a good one. Both of you!" the Doc said. Marty and Jennifer shared a look.

"Stand back. All right, boys, buckle up!" the Doc said, gesturing behind him.

"Doc, where to now? The future?" Marty asked.

"Hm… why not?" the Doc asked. He waved, and closed the window. The train's wheels turned downwards, and propelled the train up into the sky. It turned around, and shot into the sky to times unknown. Jennifer smiled, before looking down.

"Marty?" she asked.

"Yeah?" Marty asked. But Jennifer's eyes said it all.

"She's coming."


End file.
